Building Trust
by stompy sara
Summary: Murdock finds a strange bond w/a girl the team is hired to rescue. Warnings: Language, violence, injuries


July 29, 2000 - August 23, 2000  
  
  
  
Title: Building Trust  
Author: "stompy" sara  
Rated: R for language content and violence.  
Summary: The Team has trouble with their latest rescue, a girl who resists their attempts. Murdock tries to befriend her with mixed results.  
Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries to Team member, emotional turmoil  
Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team, just having a bit of fun with them. Steven J. Cannell owns 'em. BTW, this is my very first long fan fic, comments and suggestions are welcome! If anyone spots discrepancies somewhere, pls tell me! ~_^  
  
  
One  
  
As soon as she looked back, Mina knew it was useless to struggle. The man pinning her arms was huge, a big black man with a Mohawk and beard. Feathered earrings cascaded down his massive chest. She paused, blinking. The man growled, he actually growled. Despite her terror, Mina wanted to laugh. Until she swiveled her head back around to concentrate on the man standing in front of her. White hair, shrewd eyes. Big cigar in his black-gloved hands. He looked like a terrorist, or a mercenary.  
  
The blonde man on his right was scowling at her and rubbing his shin, which had just had contact with one of her combat-booted feet. Mina showed her teeth, a grimace of satisfaction. The man sighed dramatically and pulled a radio from his suit coat pocket.  
  
"Murdock, come in." All the while looking at her, distaste on his pristine features.  
  
"Yo."  
  
"We have the girl. Finally."  
  
"Problemos, muchacho?" The light voice on the other end sounded amused.  
  
"You'd have to be here to believe it. Start up the chopper, we'll be there in half an hour."  
  
"Roger, wilko, Faceyman. Thirty minutes." Putting the radio back in his pocket, the man smoothed his suit back into line, ran his fingers through his thick hair. Still scowling at her.  
  
"How is it," he addressed the white-haired man, "that we can have so much trouble with one little girl? An army, or a gang of thugs, no problem! It's always these little brats."  
  
  
"You shoulda just hit me," she spat at him. "What the hell you guys want anyway?"  
  
"We would have gotten to that earlier," the white-haired man explained patiently, "except we seemed to be having a little communication problem. And you tried to beat up Face here."  
  
"Face? That's actually your name? Perfect," she muttered, shaking her head. Face looked insulted, and moved away, his blue eyes scanning the trees.  
  
"I'm Hannibal Smith," white-hair introduced himself. "Your sister Jenna hired us to find you."  
  
"I didn't realize I was lost." She tried to back up when Hannibal took a step towards her. His eyes were piercing, but she met them defiantly.  
  
"We are not the bad guys, Mina. Your sister was concerned about this camp you're attending. We've looked into it, and frankly, I agree with her. Something about this place stinks. So as soon as we pull you out, we're coming back in to find out what's behind all the toy soldiers."  
  
"Jesus. You talk like a bad movie." Mina wanted to piss him off. She wasn't sure if it worked or not. He continued to smile blandly around his cigar. Mina sighed resignedly.  
  
"Redwood Range is a military-type camp for teenagers, like myself, who have questionable home lives, who either wish to attend the camp and volunteer, or have been signed up by their parents, who wish them to be elsewhere. Pretty straightforward, if you ask me."  
  
"Hmm. You sound smart, kid, but I guess that's as far as it goes. Too bad. Well, we need to get moving. Murdock's waiting with the chopper." Hannibal turned and marched into the trees. The man holding her gave her a gentle push forward, leaving her no choice but to follow. Face brought up the rear. She raised one eyebrow when he produced a semi-automatic with a long barrel. She wondered where he had been hiding it under the unbroken line of the suit.  
  
Almost exactly thirty minutes brought them to another clearing. The trees here were interspersed with dense underbrush, making the going a pain in the ass. Mina was hot and irritated by the time she could hear the rotor blades, topping off her already-wonderful mood brought about by being basically kidnapped. She slapped Face's hand away when he offered it for support up a particularly steep incline. She was glad they hadn't tied her hands. She didn't trust them as far as she could throw them, this talk of her sister merely convenient. It wasn't enough.  
  
A tall, lean guy wearing a bomber jacket and a baseball cap was pacing in front of the helicopter, apparently having a very serious and meaningful conversation with himself. He was about the same age as the other two younger men, near mid-thirties. Brown hair peaked out from under the dark blue cap. Long-fingered hands gesturing wildly, the man ignored their entrance into the clearing until Hannibal shouted his name.  
  
  
  
"Murdock! Let's go!" Murdock looked up, dark eyes unblinking, and abruptly shelved his conversation, ran around the front of the chopper and jumped into the pilot's seat. Hannibal gestured grandly for her to get in. She glared at him but clambered up anyway, ducking even though the blades were far above her head. She'd never been in a helicopter. Uncertainly she buckled the shoulder belt, and accepted the headset from Murdock. He grinned at her silently before turning back to flip switches and levers she didn't understand.  
  
She turned to watch incredulously as Face and Hannibal struggled with their Mohawked friend, whose head lolled over his massive shoulders. Had he passed out or something? The voice in her headset startled her.  
  
"B.A. doesn't have much faith in my flying abilities." She looked up at the pilot, who was observing this little spectacle unconcerned.  
  
"And this causes him to black out?"  
  
"Naw, the Colonel probably had ta deck him. Don't worry, we know what we're doing. Most of the time." There was a manic gleam to his eyes she didn't trust.  
  
"What the hell," she said to no one in particular. This was getting goddamn surreal. She folded her arms and waited for B.A. to get strapped in behind her, Face and Hannibal to sit to either side of her, and they were off.  
  
  
Two  
  
The cabin was a dark square in a large clearing, plenty of room for the helicopter to land. This clearing ended in an abrupt drop of sixty or seventy feet, the back of the cabin staked into the hillside. Murdock and Face busied themselves securing the helicopter and rousing B.A., which left Hannibal to direct Mina inside. He lit a kerosene lamp and hung it from a peg in the wall. Mina took in her surroundings; one large room, two twin beds, a couch, a tiny kitchen. Butcher block table, clean but had seen its share of years. Indoor bathroom, thank god for small favors.  
  
"Make yourself at home," Hannibal suggested, taking a dining chair and leaning back in it, cigar puffing away. Mina dropped her knapsack to the wooden floor and helped herself to a glass of water. She listened as voices grew closer to the open doorway, then whirled when an inarticulate shout startled her. Murdock and Face stumbled backwards through the entrance, both of them with hands up in warding gestures. B.A. filled the post and lintel doorway, brows lowered.  
  
"You made me fly again! Hannibal, you let this crazy man take me up in the air!"  
  
"Why yes, you're right, B.A.," Hannibal answered nonchalantly.  
  
"This is the last time, Hannibal! I swear heads are gonna roll next time!"  
  
  
  
"Whatever you say, B.A."  
  
  
"Don't give me none a your backwards talk man." B.A. sulked into another dining chair. Face cleared his throat and reflexively straightened his tie. Murdock stuck his hands into his pants pockets, leaned against the counter next to the kitchen sink. Mina's eyes went to each of them. A corner of her mind was noticing how her heart hammered, her breathing fast and shallow. She was alone, in a cabin in the woods, middle of fucking nowhere, with four grown men, one of whom was very, very angry at the moment. She stepped back into the counter, wedging herself closer to a corner of the three-sided space. Murdock glanced her way, but she kept her eyes on B.A. Then swung her head to the left when Murdock turned towards her.  
  
"You alright chica?" he asked softly. His brown eyes seemed kind. Shit, was she getting soft already?  
  
"Yeah. Fuckin' peachy." She drew herself up to her full height of five-four, and faced him squarely. Had to crane her neck to look in his face. His eyes narrowed a bit at her profanity, but it was Hannibal who objected.  
  
"Young lady." The older man left the chair and walked towards her. She hated feeling trapped. "I would appreciate it if you toned down the language. There's no need to get ugly."  
  
"Yeah? I think there's plenty of reason, starting with the fact that I belong back at Redwood Range." She tried to quash her fear, stuff it way down where Hannibal wouldn't notice it in her eyes. Stupid to talk back, she knew, but it was all she had right now. She had no options, and no advantages. Screwed. Hannibal took a step back, guess he noticed her fear anyway. She gripped the countertop behind her tightly as though to anchor herself. Hannibal flicked his eyes in the pilot's direction, and Murdock stepped away to sit on the couch. Hannibal took another step backwards.  
  
"Mina. Look at me." His voice gentle now. She looked up at him through her lashes. She thought he might be older than she had guessed at first. Close to sixty, though he moved like a much younger man.  
  
"We really are here to help you. There are obviously things you don't know about Redwood Range, or your camp director, Luhrman Taylor."  
  
"I know what I need to know."  
  
"Does that knowledge include what he uses as punishment for kids who get out of line?" Face spoke up from the table.  
  
  
  
  
  
Mina didn't answer. She'd seen the tin sheds lined up in the middle of the main compound, what her fellow soldiers called 'punishment boxes.' She'd heard the crying in the middle of the night. But Taylor's soldiers were the best. They were taught everything. Hand to hand, firearms, stealth, survival training. The last three months had almost kicked her butt, but she had also lost five pounds of fat and gained seven of muscle. Most sixteen-year-olds could not disarm a man twice their size. Mina was confident in her abilities, but not against four men. That was stretching it a bit.  
  
  
"Taylor does what he thinks it necessary," she said with certainty.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. Well. It's late, I'm sure you're tired, and I could use some shut-eye myself. Face, first watch. Mina, you take one of the beds." Face disappeared out the door. Murdock bounced up from the couch and grabbed a large black duffel and a dark blue sleeping bag from the pile near the door.  
  
"I'll take the floor, Colonel."  
  
"That's good of you, Captain."  
  
"Eh. . . where should I take it, Colonel?"  
  
"Wherever you wish, Captain."  
  
"Maybe it's happier where it is. Maybe I shouldn't take it anywhere."  
  
"That may be."  
  
"I know! I'll ask it." Murdock got down on hands and knees, ear to the floor. He began to whisper.  
  
"Oh, my god," Mina muttered, her eyes going from one man to the other as though watching a tennis match. The guy was truly out there. Hannibal was grinning like a proud father. She threw up her hands and stalked into the bathroom. It was going to be an interesting night. Too bad she'd have to cut it short by getting the hell out of here.  
  
Three  
  
Murdock woke with the rotor blades still whispering in his brain, black smoke and fire behind his closed eyelids. He took a deep breath, thinking white paper white paper white paper - the sound of the cabin window sliding in its primitive track brought his attention around. He opened his eyes.  
  
  
The girl was half out the window already, ducking her head under the wooden frame. Murdock pushed the sleeping bag down and off, silently rolled to his feet. She didn't notice, she was out and gone. Still fully dressed, Murdock followed her, snaking out the window without having to open it any farther.  
  
  
The clearing was bathed dimly in the light of the waning moon, just a sliver, but the sky was clear. Mina was running, hunched over, towards the treeline. Murdock looked for Face, but he must be at the perimeter, farther out in the woods. The pilot smiled in the near-dark, and loped after her.  
  
  
She had paused at the edge of the clearing, knapsack clenched in one hand, neck craning as she looked for Face. Murdock stopped just short of running into her, stood up and pushed his hands into his pockets. When she turned, he slid out of her line of sight. She made a three-sixty, and he circled her. Geez, the kid still hadn't noticed him? He stopped as she continued to turn, watched her jump as her eyes fixed on him. He smiled widely.  
  
"Nice night for a stroll eh?" he commented. The girl just stared at him, eyes wider than saucers. She was tiny, her dark hair short and curling out at the ends, making her look younger than her sixteen years. A sharp chin and large eyes gave her an elfin charm, especially surrounded by the trees. The only elements marring the picture were her ripstop jumpsuit and combat boots. Murdock doubted that this would be viewed as traditional elfin garb. She brought her chin up suddenly, eyes hard, stubborn.  
  
"Guess I'll have to wait 'til next time," she said haughtily. Murdock shrugged, quirking one side of his mouth up in a half-grin. Her expression grew wary as they regarded each other, unmoving and silent. Murdock broke this silence, whistling tunelessly as he turned back towards the cabin. He did not watch to see if she followed, he wanted to take a chance on this girl. He could feel her hesitate behind him.  
  
"You run now, and I'll just catch ya again," he said. The boot to his back moments later was not what he had anticipated. He tucked his fall into a roll, coming back up on his feet flash-fast, and caught her retreating figure heading back into the trees. He sighed and started to run.  
  
His long strides made it easy to catch up. Even as his hand closed on her arm, he was afraid of hurting her. She was just a kid, and probably scared shitless. It didn't matter if she hit him, she probably couldn't do much damage. When he had a hold of her, he continued to run, slowing down easily instead of yanking her to a stop. She was sobbing for breath when they finally halted, and she snatched her arm away from his loose grip, knelt on the forest floor holding her wrist, body turned away, looked back and up at him. Her eyes -   
  
- brief flash of fire in darkness, air full of panic. The girl stumbled and fell, scraping her knees on the exposed roots of the jungle floor. Ugly laughter as they caught up, grabbed her, spun her around. Dark eyes full of abject terror, brief blink of sadness, knowledge. He was running fast, but not fast enough. Couldn't reach her. Her eyes and his. . . locked gazes. She forgave him. The shots were loud, filled his ears. He couldn't hear his own screaming, just the gun reports, and their hideous, hideous laughter -   
  
  
  
  
"Hey. You okay?" He blinked, realized he was kneeling on the ground, head in hands. Mina knelt beside him, head cocked to one side, trying to catch his eye. Still far away from him, but she hadn't run. She could have, him caught again in the past. She stayed, waiting. Just what had brought that on? Viciously he shoved the memories back inside, deep down where the core of him was, schooled his eyes and his expression into something she could handle. Managed to breathe. Managed a smile, genuine for her.  
  
  
"Don't mind me," he said, voice soft and hoarse. He rose, put his hands in his pants pockets, so she wouldn't see them trembling. She got up too, walked beside him. Back towards the cabin. They did not speak as they walked past Face, who's mouthed dropped open at the sight. He started to say something, as Murdock caught his eye. Face's jaw snapped shut at that look. He returned one of his own, that said, you alright? Murdock gave him one nod. It was all they needed. The pilot and the girl walked to the door, opened it, stepped through. Face turned on his heel to do one more circuit of the perimeter.  
  
  
Four  
  
Sunlight reddening her closed eyelids brought Mina fully awake. She could hear low male voices not far from where she lay, trying to remember where she was. Ah yes. Four men, a cabin, a lovely jaunt through the woods in the middle of the night, some really weird guy making her feel sorry for him. . . she opened her eyes, stared at the ceiling. Why was she back here? Perfect opportunity to beat it, yet here she was. She glanced down the length of the room, saw B.A. and Face sitting at the table, eating. Hannibal looking out the window, surprise surprise, chewing on a cigar. What was it, 6:00am? She pulled her wrist from under the covers to read her watch. Close enough, 6:07. She wondered where Murdock was, realized he must be outside. Patrolling or whatever.  
  
Mina was pissed off at herself. Weak, just weak, no excuse, what had made her come back with him? In the light of morning she felt stupid, but she remembered his face, the haunted look in his eyes, then suddenly he'd been. . . somewhere else. Like her fear had hit him, triggered a memory maybe? And somehow, she just couldn't leave him there in the middle of the forest like that. She flung one arm above her head, silently stewing, until she heard his voice at the door. Raised her head to look.  
  
She watched Murdock dancing around as though nothing had happened, saluting the Colonel smartly, teasing B.A. before sending him outside for another two hour watch. They hadn't let up all night, and they would probably patrol their little site until their departure. Sure weren't making it easy for her to take off. She noticed he was wearing Chuck Taylors, reminding her of the kid who lived two doors down in her apartment complex. A big kid. All that was missing was a yo-yo and a lollipop. Too bad the shoulder holster he wore over his   
  
t-shirt kinda ruined the effect.  
  
  
  
He glanced her way and winked. She didn't know how to react. A part of her was certain he was just trying to get her to stay, believe them and their bizarre theories on her Commander at the Range. Win her over, get her to behave. Screw it, it was too early to try to think. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, ran fingers through her hair, probably sending it spiking all over the place.  
  
  
Face handed her a cup as she walked up to the table. She nodded her thanks, it was too early to talk either. She studied Face while she sipped black coffee. He had dressed more reasonably today, light denim button-up shirt and jeans, hiking boots. He also wore a shoulder holster, the semi-automatic tucked under his left arm. Damn, he was good-looking, even if he was way too old for her. He seemed to be contemplating her, probably wondering what the hell had gone on the night before. Smoothed his hands over the perfect hair, glanced at Murdock in the kitchen. The pilot plunked a plate down in front of her before starting on his own. Hannibal sat down on her left.  
  
"Glad to see you up early with us, Mina," he greeted her. She nodded again. Four hours of sleep really sucked. She had no brain this early.  
  
"You'll get to talk to your sister later today. We'll take the chopper out to where we stashed the van, then on to your sister's apartment."  
  
"You don't have a phone in the cabin?" she finally managed.  
  
"Sorry, things are a little Spartan here. We'll leave in a few hours. We want to clean up first, make a last sweep of the area."  
  
Mina gave him a puzzled look. "You guys sure are paranoid. We must be two hours away from the Range, and that's by helicopter. The Commander may be looking for me, but. . . "  
  
He smiled. "We don't take chances, Mina." His expression and tone took on a double meaning for her. They didn't take chances with anything, including her. She wondered what Murdock had said, if anything, about last night's escape attempt. If they were leaving soon, she didn't have much time. Hell, she was feeling reckless, especially with this sludge they called coffee in her. She glanced into the cup, surprised it was empty. She felt a bit buzzy now, jumped up to get some more on her own. Ignored Murdock as she walked past. Last thing she needed was to let her spontaneity of the night before influence her future actions, and that included getting soft on some guy who was probably working her anyway.  
  
  
  
  
Five  
  
Face strolled over to where Murdock was doing a pre-flight   
check, meticulous as usual when it came to flying. The pilot   
was apparently trying his best to pretend everything was normal,   
but Face wasn't buying it. Murdock kept raising his eyes from   
clipboard to across the clearing, where Mina stood, arms crossed   
and gazing into the trees, planning something if anyone were to   
ask him. He leaned against the chopper and looked at his   
friend. Murdock gave him a half-smile. Hmmm. Something was   
definitely up.  
  
"Everything okay?"  
  
"Peachy-keen, Faceyman," Murdock said, unconsciously echoing   
Mina's sarcastic reply of the night before, his eyes going again   
to the girl. Face sighed, looked to the heavens.  
  
"Boy, sometimes you're just. . .will you quit this act and tell   
me what happened last night? And why didn't you say anything to   
Hannibal this morning?"  
  
Murdock's eyes flickered, a sign that jumped out at Face and   
shouted that something was wrong, much more than just the girl   
trying to run off. He wanted to grab the pilot's arms and shake   
him into sense. The guy always got closed off whenever he was   
in over his head, pretense that it was all part of his Grand   
Plan. He took a step closer, made Murdock look him in the face.  
  
"Murdock. Talk to me."  
  
Murdock closed his eyes briefly, swallowed. When he opened them   
again Face saw angry wounds opened that he had believed were   
healed long ago. His stomach churned. He had to lean closer to   
hear the light voice, so low as to be a whisper.  
  
"It was there. Saw it all over again, her eyes man, like she   
knew. . ." Falling into a cadence Face hadn't heard out of him   
in twelve years. The pilot stopped, took a shaky breath,   
staring at the ground. Face put a tentative hand on his arm,   
was relieved to find that he seemed steady enough. He heard   
ghosts surfacing in the ragged murmuring, didn't know which   
ones. There were so many, he knew. He knew. He squeezed   
Murdock's arm, a gentle pressure. Murdock looked up at him, his   
eyes so serious, sorrow there the man usually hid, even from   
  
himself. When he blinked, the Crazyman was back. Demented   
smile. Face cursed inwardly, but he wouldn't push.  
  
"Go on, Face. It'll all look different from the air. It always   
does."  
  
  
"Right, right." Face started towards the cabin to help Hannibal   
load the helicopter. Three steps towards his destination he   
stopped, turned. Murdock looking at Mina again. Raw, aching   
grief. Damn. If he weren't so good at masks himself, he would   
have wept.  
  
  
******  
  
Murdock was trying to clear the fog from his head. He hadn't   
slept since following Mina into the woods, wouldn't if he'd had   
the chance. Couldn't go to sleep with those eyes there every   
time he blinked. He clutched the clipboard in one hand, reread   
the checklist. He kept having to read number three. Again.   
Noticed he'd ticked it off twice, the pencil digging deep into   
the paper. What was he doing anyway? He knew this list   
forwards, backwards, sideways. He walked absently around the   
bird, slipped into the pilot's seat. Staring through the   
numerous dials, feet on the pedals, let's go, let's go Colonel.   
. .  
  
Face knew something was up. Hell, they probably all knew, and   
still trusted him to fly them out. He was shaken, no shit.   
He'd started slinging words around with that twang on strong,   
something in his voice and his manner bringing back the kid,   
smart-ass flyboy who hadn't slept for three days after seeing   
that village razed. His remembering smile was brittle. He'd   
pulped that Major's face so bad the man had to be flown into   
Saigon to get his nose back. He glanced down at the scar on his   
left hand, white gash between the first and second knuckles.   
Heh, the good Major'd had perfect, even, sharp teeth.  
  
Murdock set the clipboard between his and the passenger seat,   
pulled his cap off to run fingers through his hair.   
Blink. Lunatic grin, cap on backwards, grab the controls, yeah   
we're flyin' the friendly skies!  
  
"This is Captain Murdock, we are just five klicks south of LZ   
  
Albany, lookin' pretty hot, on stand-by, over - " He nearly   
jumped a mile when Mina swung into the passenger seat.  
  
"Hi." She was smiling, sort of.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Need a gunner?"  
  
Murdock chuckled. "Yeah. Consider yourself commissioned."  
  
Mina took a deep breath. "What happened to you last night?" she   
asked bluntly. Murdock just looked at her a while. For some   
reason, he needed her to trust him.  
  
"Okay." Inhale, exhale. "Okay. A long time ago, there was this   
girl. . . in a village. I saw her shot by three of our own, and   
I couldn't reach her in time. They were firing it - "  
  
"What?"  
  
"Destroying it. Looking for VC among the peasant farmers. She   
was about, I don't know, nine or ten, real small. And those men   
were already way beyond, ya know? Out of control, killing   
anything that moved. She ran, after they killed her dog, her   
brother, her mother, boom boom boom, one right after the other.   
Ten years old, I swear." He made himself look at her. "And I   
was trying to stop them when she tripped, and fell. I was   
running across the village common, but they were so far away,   
almost into the jungle. She looked back at me - " He couldn't.   
Broke her gaze and stared out the bubbled window. "Her eyes.   
Like yours last night. I'm, I'm sorry if I scared you."  
  
She was quiet for some time. Murdock kept staring at that scar,   
smaller, fainter, but still there, pretty strong line between   
the knuckles.  
  
"Was that in Vietnam?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Long pause. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay. Long time ago, I shouldn't let it get to me.   
Usually turn it off, but. . ." he shrugged. Couldn't believe   
  
he'd told her this story. He hadn't even told Face, any of   
them, it was before they'd hooked up. He knew he owed Face an   
explanation, after just babbling like that.  
  
Something about this girl. . .  
  
The two of them were still sitting there when Hannibal came up   
with Face and B.A. in tow.  
  
The Colonel said quietly, "Time to go up, Captain."  
  
  
  
Six  
  
  
Mina's mind was working furiously, and she sat quietly in the backseat of the chopper, having relinquished her front seat to Hannibal. The aircraft rose smoothly, Murdock merging with the controls, hands resting lightly, flipping switches here, tapping dials there. He was in another world. . . again. Her thoughts were switching back and forth, from her abduction (still how she thought of it) at the Range, to Murdock's past.  
  
She looked over at Face, biting her lip. His eyes were trying to bore a hole in Murdock's seatback. He caught her staring; blue orbs like chipped ice. She flinched before she could stop herself, recovered, glared back. It wasn't her fault Murdock saw past horrors in her fear. She felt bad for him, yes. Felt her gut tighten as he recited his memories, voice and face transformed, the years falling off until she saw the pilot not much older than herself, the innocence jolted out of him with every death witnessed. She knew that shell, had hardened her own so she could wake up every morning and not dread the hours, the day stretching before her. Until the Range. Where things had changed.  
  
And this was where her thoughts came full circle. She still owed loyalty to her Commander. She didn't know if it was the training experience, or the man himself, nevertheless she felt her betrayal to him in her sudden and unexpected bond with these men. She desperately wanted to see her sister; desperately wanted to return to camp. She was not the sullen child of three months before. She looked back on that girl and winced, the tantrums, fights with her father, company she kept. No matter how admirable her sister's intentions, going home would end with her trapped at square one, no guidance, facing her father and his abuse. She recognized it for what it was now. He didn't dare touch her, no, his blows were more subtle. Thank you, father, for sending me to Redwood Range. You wanted me out, well, I'm out. But now what?  
  
  
The Colonel was a brick wall she refused to throw herself against. His sights were on her Commander, he sensed something beyond a man training young people to look after themselves, better themselves. His comment yesterday, said she sounded smart. . . what was she missing? Did she even believe that he wasn't manipulating her, toss her an excuse so she would cooperate? Of course he was, he would say for her own good.  
  
  
  
She sighed, sat up straighter, looking out the window. Unending sea of green beneath them, the trees dense with leaves, the forest feral dark in some areas, menacing beneath the overcast sky. The give and take between the men, voices in her headset, were somehow comforting. She ignored Face's inquisitive glances, her gaze wandering over the helicopter's interior. Had to smile at B.A. snoring lightly in the seat across from her. If only. . . no. Yes, yes why not? These men were a more than capable unit, they had torn her from sanctuary, why not ask it from them?  
  
The impact, so violent and unexpected, jarred the cabin, throwing her taut against the shoulder belt. What the fuck -   
  
"Captain!"  
  
"Three-o'clock, Colonel! Dammit - "  
  
  
"Talk to me Murdock!"  
  
"Hit the side. Clipped the tail rotor!"  
  
"That's bad, right?"  
  
"What do you think Faceman? Control stick's useless - "  
  
"There! Behind us now - "  
  
"I see them Lieutenant."  
  
"Holy - that is a cannon, Hannibal!"  
  
"Gentlemen, we are going down!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hold on, muchachos. . ."  
  
"Oh my god - "  
  
"Return fire, Lieutenant!"  
  
"Mind if I live through this crash first?"  
  
  
Mina closed her eyes and hung on grimly as the trees rushed towards them.  
  
  
Seven  
  
  
  
Burning metal smell setting her teeth on edge, her eyes straining to look through the jagged mess of the front windshield, Mina saw only broken tree branches and the murky sky above her. Somehow, she had missed their impact. Somehow, she wasn't dead. Her eyes roved about the cabin, as shouts filled her ears, rushing in from the total absense of the senses that had cocooned her only seconds before. Alive. Gaze zeroed in on Murdock. He was laughing like a hyena, blood running from a cut on his head, arm at an odd angle. Shards of glass everywhere, the Colonel reaching back and turning towards the back seats, checking everyone. His hand on her shoulder made her jump. His face was a series of cuts as well.  
  
"Mina. Are you okay?" She nodded, not trusting her voice just yet. Looked over at Face. He was unbuckled and eyeing B.A., who was awakening groggily.  
  
"Hannibal, we need to get out of here," Face said urgently. "We're not even a hundred yards from their position."  
  
"Working on it, Face. Help me wake B.A."  
  
Mina managed to speak. "Murdock." Her voice strangled and small. He tried to move, cried out when his arm wouldn't cooperate. She struggled out of her shoulder belt, distractedly swatting shards of glass away, hands stinging from the sharp edges. Hannibal left B.A. to Face's attention to look at his pilot's injuries.  
  
"Murdock, this arm. . ."  
  
"I know, Colonel, I know. Get me out of this - " gesturing at the seatbelt imprisoning him. She watched helplessly as the older man hissed his impatience, drew a buck knife from an ankle sheath and slit the tough fabric. Vaguely she heard other noises coming from farther away, strange voices. Her stomach tightened. She thought she might throw up.  
  
Face forgot B.A. momentarily after surmising that no harm was done to the big man, drew his semi-automatic and swung out the broken side window to a better vantage on a sturdy branch. Heard him swear distinctly, first curse she'd heard from any of them. He stuck his head in to look at Murdock.  
  
"How do you feel?" he asked, as the pilot extricated himself from the his seat, jaw set against the pain.  
  
  
"How close are they?" Murdock countered, brushing away his friend's concern. Glance at Mina, and she nodded, jerked her head towards Face to indicate the more pressing problems they had.  
  
"Close enough."  
  
"We're not far from the ground," Hannibal offered, kicking his door open with a booted foot. He disappeared momentarily, only to appear at her suddenly open door. She glanced down, head swimming when she saw how far up they actually were. Twisted to look at B.A. He was glancing around in confusion.  
  
  
"We crashed, didn't we! I was flyin' with that crazy fool!" B.A. glowered at Murdock, emotion flowing from rage to anxiety when he saw the state of the pilot's arm and head. In seconds the Sergeant assessed the situation. Without another word he slung several weapons and supplies over his shoulder, biceps bunching as he pulled himself out the open side door. He reach up towards Mina, flicking his beringed hands to follow him. She gritted her teeth, found a tree limb within reach, and stepped out, accepting his support. Voices ever closer. Back of her mind thinking, they can't be too bright, how do they know we can't hear them?  
  
The helicopter was suspended about thirty feet from the forest floor, nose pointed towards the sky. White smoke poured out of the engine, rotors twisted among the branches, gaping hole near the fuel tank punched too close to the side door. Mina managed the climb down, avoiding the white-hot metal, dropped the last few feet to the ground. Thoughts flying ahead, she called up to the Colonel in a stage-whisper.  
  
"I can carry more supplies if you need me to!" Her answer was a padded medical kit tossed down to her, olive-green with a bright red cross. She caught it and watched as Hannibal helped Murdock out, Face swinging around the tail to join them. The pilot was pale, blood stark on his face and neck, cap still incredulously on his head. Didn't utter a word of complaint and made his way down one-handed.  
  
Mina found herself ushered farther into the trees, then a hand pressed her down to her knees, the underbrush obscuring her vision. They knelt silently as the voices of their pursuers came within feet of their hiding place.  
  
"God dammit, they're here! We only shot them down a few minutes ago!"  
  
"No one's in the chopper, I swear!"  
  
"Commander's gonna be pissed."  
  
"That's not my fault. I shot them point-blank!"  
  
"Well, take a look around! They can't be far."  
  
  
Mina slowed her breathing, carefully taking shallow, quiet inhalations, sure they could hear her. She moved only her eyes, looked at Murdock crouching to her right. He was still as a stone, right arm held close to his body, left hand holding a pistol. Looked like he could pass out. Ungainly footsteps crashed through the underbrush near them. Murdock put out his left hand and pushed her down farther, her nose almost touching the earth. Scent of pine needles and blood, the leather of his jacket. She put a hand over her mouth, terrified of making a sound. A black boot in her line of vision, only blades of grass between them, then gone, the man moving away. Stupid-ass didn't even look that hard.  
  
  
  
Her back was beginning to cramp when the Colonel whistled, mocking-bird style. The others moved, and Murdock pulled her back up, looking at her hard, making sure she was okay. She raised her hand up to his temple, gash across his left cheek, she didn't quite touch him. Brown eyes reflecting pain and concern. They were glazing as she watched. She caught his jacket sleeve, holding him up. Face appeared over the pilot's shoulder, knelt next to them, turned Murdock's head gently to look at him.  
  
"Where's that medkit."  
  
  
Eight  
  
"Not the jacket, please. . . "  
  
"Murdock, your arm is broken."  
  
  
"Well, it's not gonna get any more broken, just don't cut my jacket, c'mon Hannibal."  
  
"Shut up crazyman, ya don't know what you're sayin'!"  
  
"Since when has that been a news flash? Oh, shit."  
  
B.A. and Hannibal had propped the pilot against a tree, Mina following with the medical supplies. Face was kneeling over Murdock, looking at the slash on his cheekbone. She could tell he was afraid to look at the arm, while Murdock pleaded with them not to cut the sleeve off. Finally B.A. grew impatient, pulled the pilot forward so they could slide the jacket off. Murdock was not happy with this, and promptly lost consciousness as the arm was moved.  
  
B.A.'s face like thunder, he eased the jacket the rest of the way off, tossed it to Hannibal, slowly leaned Murdock back against the tree. His eyelids fluttered. Mina knelt on his right, medkit forgotten, forced her gaze to his right arm. Glimpse of white bone through the crimson staining his wrist and hand. She swallowed and caught Face's eye as he reached for the medical bag. His expression gentled into reassurance.  
  
  
"I've seen worse, so has he. He'll be alright."  
  
"Forearm's snapped," B.A. commented unnecessarily, sitting on his heels to Murdock's left. His dark eyes were a study of fury and distress, pissed enough to chew rocks, Mina guessed. Face unrolled the padded medkit, pulling out various articles.  
  
"Can you pass me things as I ask for them?" he asked her quietly. She nodded, heard Hannibal clear his throat behind her.  
  
  
"B.A., I need you to scout around, check out a few things with me." B.A. nodded, eyes still on the pilot, put a hand to his shoulder. Murdock's eyes opened a bit, tried to focus on the Sergeant.  
  
"Don' cut my jacket, big guy. Las' thing lef' I have from 'Nam. Don' even have my pilot's licence, gotta keep some'in ya know?"  
  
"I know. We didn't ruin it, Murdock. Now shut up and let Face splint that."  
  
"'Kay." Eyes closed again. B.A. rose and stalked off with Hannibal. They hadn't gone far from the crash site, after the search party had overlooked them. If those were what passed for the Commander's guards these days, he was doing a pretty shoddy job at training for some reason. Mina wasn't asking for their vigilance. She watched silently as Face cleaned blood from Murdock's arm, took the arm lightly in his hands, gently pressing various places. Murdock hissed, jerked his head up suddenly. She put her hand on his good arm, felt him shaking. He looked at her with that glazed not-there expression, focus in and out.  
  
"You alright?" he said, slowly, distinctly.  
  
  
"Yeah, fine. You're the one - " she faltered, realized yes, she was worried about this man, whom she'd only met the day before.  
  
"Mina." Face, trying to capture her attention. Still holding Murdock's arm, she swiveled her head.  
  
"I need antiseptic, and another piece of cotton."  
  
"Oh. Okay." Releasing Murdock's arm reluctantly, she was shocked into stillness when he reached up to touch her cheek. Dammit. Her eyes filling just from that one gesture. She turned quickly to the kit, found what Face needed, tears spilling over unheeded. Just tired, exhausted, too much going on, almost get killed, just too fucking tired to deal with this. . .  
  
She sat numbly as Face bound the wound, trying to keep the two ends of jagged bone together, splinted it and raised it slowly to Murdock's chest. She helped him anchor the arm tightly, wrapping an ace bandage around several times, creating a sling. The blonde man sat back, ran his fingers through his hair, shook his head.  
  
"Best we can do out here. Let me look at your face, still bleeding there. You get hit in the head?"  
  
"Don't know. . . I think so." Barely audible now. Mina sat Indian-style, imitated Face's gesture by pulling her own hair into some semblance of behavior. Desperate for a shower. Food, we need food.  
  
"We need food and water."  
  
  
  
"We've got some. Let me dress this first." Mina glanced up, caught Murdock looking at her, expression confused, a bit hurt. Found herself shaking her head, trying to tell him he'd done nothing wrong, she was just. . . she inched closer, took his left hand, staring at it. Long tapered fingers, artist's hands, strong, pale now from shock, her own so small against it. Closed her other on top. Felt his fingers tighten slightly, she kept her head down, her heartbeat slowing, adrenaline leeched from her as quickly as it had kicked in. She was gonna cry again. No, she wasn't, ridiculous, she had to be strong too, years of experience keeping the tears far away, they needed her to be a part of them, not hold them back. No tears. Not now.  
  
  
Nine  
  
First awareness was of the birds. They wouldn't stop chirping, little bastards. Wow, must be hurting if he would think that. Murdock attempted opening his eyes, trying hard to ignore the deep biting agony of his right arm. How would he fly now? Oh yeah, no chopper, what the hell, no worries. . . Mina. Her hand still in his, pretty sure she was asleep, he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing, her head on his shoulder. Someone else there. . . Face. He could smell the Lieutenant's expensive french-milled soap. Succeeded in opening his eyes this time. Guy looked pretty worried, he must be in worse shape than he thought.  
  
"Faceyman. Where's the party?"  
  
Face shook his head, smiling. "Feeling better?"  
  
"Wouldn't put it that way."  
  
"Well try to stay awake this time. That bump to your head is no joke."  
  
"Where's my jacket."  
  
"B.A. has it. Don't worry, Murdock. There's blood in the sleeve but B.A.'s trying to wash it out."  
  
"Big guy's concerned for me, isn't he? The ugly mudsucka. Should thank him for pulling it off. . . mmm. This arm insists on demanding my attention."  
  
"Here." Face reached into his chest pocket, pulled out a pillbox. "Aspirin. I'll get water. You hungry?"  
  
"Hell no."  
  
Tried to clear his head, squeezing his eyes shut to dispel the dizziness, man, graying out. . . felt Mina squeeze his hand. He would swear she was crying before, what was that about? Probably just scared, he'd felt her trembling when she leaned against him. Murdock forced his eyes open, concentrated on Face's lean form, walking towards him with the canteen. He moved his left arm a bit. Mina stirred.  
  
"Hey chica. Gotta take these pills, okay?" She looked up at him, barely awake, shook her head to clear it of sleep and released his hand so he could accept the canteen.  
  
  
Hannibal emerged from the trees, rifle unslung and ready. Been scouting, trying to find that group of men from before. Damned amateurs, and they shot his bird right outta the sky, no more cloud-ridin' for a while now.  
  
"Glad to see you back with us, Captain," the Colonel greeted him, smiling. "We found that gun they used on us. You're practically right, Face. Might as well have been a cannon."  
  
"What about those men?"  
  
"Gone, my guess is back to the Range. And that's where we're going."  
  
Face doing a double-take almost made him laugh. "Excuse me? Uh, Hannibal, Murdock's not in the greatest of shape. Shouldn't we just go back to the cabin, let him rest, regain our strength so to speak?"  
  
The Colonel lit his cigar, grinned around it. On the jazz, what a surprise.  
  
"Lieutenant, that would be an excellent course of action, if."  
  
"If?"  
  
"If they hadn't already raided the cabin. There are two men guarding it now. We're out here for the time being, and it's gonna get hot. Damn hot. I want a better place to camp than this, something out of the sun. And, those little pricks owe us one helicopter. Captain." Looking at him now. Murdock saluted left-handed, canteen to his forehead. If only he could concentrate on what they were saying.  
  
"Colonel."  
  
"You up for a hike?"  
  
Murdock closed his eyes, opened them, steady focus now, don't let him see.  
  
"Anything you say, Colonel."  
  
"Don't listen to him, Hannibal, he's got a concussion." Face was fretting now. Mina got up, running her hands through her hair like she always did. Spiking it up, looked like a little terror that way. He thought it was cute. Weary eyes on him now, he could see the front she was using, trying to be brave.  
  
"You guys mind if I go clean up somewhere?"  
  
Hannibal looked skeptical. "Well. . . B.A.'s at the stream. That way, just make a beeline from this tree, you'll find it. Just don't take too long, and keep him in your sights."  
  
"I was hoping for something a little more private. . ."  
  
  
"Look at it this way, kid. This is a mission, and out here, there's precious little in the way of accomodations. We just want you to be safe. Stay within shouting distance okay?"  
  
"Okay." One more glance at him. He smiled as best he could, pushed the pain down just like everything else.   
  
- slick green of jungle canopy, rain coming down in torrents, little girl hiding under the leaves, shine of her eyes giving her away -  
  
"Murdock?" Face knelt in front of him, blue eyes narrowed. Murdock started.  
  
"It's gonna rain."  
  
His friend looked disconcerted.  
  
  
"Hannibal just said it was going be hot today." Face trying to see behind his eyes.  
  
"It will be. Hot and muggy. And raining. Trust me."  
  
"Great, just great. You know we still have to climb up to the chopper and get our supplies and clothes? Might as well be in the jungle, with this weather." Walked away muttering to himself. Good old Faceman. Could always count on him to see the bright side of things.  
  
  
Ten  
  
  
The thing about backpacking, Mina reflected, adjusting the knapsack on her back, is that whatever you carried always grew heavier with every passing minute. Three miles into their hike (she should be used to this!), back on fire, raging headache from the oppressive weather, worry crawling its tingling way into her belly. Dusky gray clouds hung low above them; heat lightning caused Murdock to wince for some reason. He looked terrible, mouth a harsh line in his sallow face, she could see him struggling to maintain composure in front of the rest of the guys, wouldn't let them stop as long as they were in danger of being discovered again. The thunderclouds matched B.A.'s expression, he kept looking at the pilot, she could tell the big man wanted to yell at him for being so stubborn. Face unreadable, Hannibal scouting, like he knew his team wasn't as sharp as it should be with their thoughts on Murdock.  
  
  
Midmorning Hannibal raised his hand to stop. Mina dropped her knapsack, rotated her neck, trying to lose the stiffness. Watched as Hannibal marched straight to Murdock, who was gazing ahead at nothing, duffel still slung over one shoulder. The Colonel took his pilot by the arm, snapped his fingers in Murdock's face. Murdock blinked, swayed in Hannibal's grasp, mouth half-open, trancelike. Mina walked closer, peered into Murdock's eyes. Noticed the bandage holding the splint was dark with blood. She made a small sound in her throat.  
  
  
"Sit down, Murdock." Hannibal lowered him to the ground amid dead pine needles and moist earth. Fat drops of rain began to pelt them. Fucking great. Mina pulled up the collar of her jumpsuit, glad for the water-repellent fabric.  
  
"Drink this," the Colonel ordered, putting a canteen in his left hand. Murdock couldn't seem to keep his eyes on one spot. His gaze wandered upwards, noting the sudden precipitation.  
  
"Told ya, Facey." Mina wondered what he was talking about. Face sat on his heels and took Murdock's jaw in one hand, forcing him to turn his face, eye to eye.  
  
"You have a fever, Murdock. Why didn't you tell us to stop? Jesus. . . hold still!" he snapped as Murdock tried to pull away. Unwound the bandage from the pilot's wrist. Murdock groaned, put his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. Eyes all over the place.  
  
"Where's B.A.?" he whispered.  
  
  
"Behind you, sucka," B.A. rumbled, standing over him protectively.  
  
"Face, ya gotta radio back! Tell 'em we can't make the LZ!"  
  
Everyone went motionless. Mina felt her mouth drop open, eyes widen. He's gone. . .  
  
"Murdock. Listen to me. Look at me." Face was very quiet. Fear evident in the pinched expression. "We are not in the jungle. We are in Colorado, on a job for Jenna Shepherd. Understand?"  
  
"No. . . what? What are you talking about Face? Did Dalton find our signals?"  
  
B.A.'s hands were clenched into fists. Mina took a hasty step back, watched B.A. stalk around to look at Murdock. Apprehension there too. Hannibal's pale blue eyes were half-closed, frown between the white eyebrows, hand still on the pilot's arm.  
  
"B.A., whaddaya think? Chopper all through or can ya fix it? Few klicks back is all. . . well ya gonna answer me, ya ugly mudsucka, or ya just gonna stand there?"  
  
Mina recognized that rhythm in his breathless voice, some kind of accent heavier, slang riding rough over everything. She could almost feel the murky hold the jungle had on him.  
  
"Shut up, fool! Can't take this again. . . we're in Colorado! You listenin' to me crazyman? 'Nam's come and gone, get your head out tha clouds!"  
  
  
"Out tha clouds, out tha clouds. . . I belong up there, coverin' your ass, not here crawlin' through the leaves. . . Colonel, tell me do ya know if Dalton got our signal? We gotta get outta here, VC gonna crawl right up our asses if we stay here! I can hear 'em, eyes are followin' me. . . Colonel? Face, stop it!"  
  
"Murdock, if you don't hold still your gonna make this worse. Your arm is broken, remember? Shit, what the fuck, what the FUCK, I can't do this  
Hannibal - "   
  
Mina felt she had crossed the threshold into another time, scene played out before her through a cracked mirror. Face following Murdock's lead, his words edged with sarcasm and vulgarity. She stumbled back, sat on her knapsack.  
  
"Aw shit - Face, my arm, you think it'll heal straight? We're trapped here - you. You! I can see ya lookin at me, come on out!" Pointing at her. Her eyes were drying out from staring, shallow breathing, her heart racing. Her voice coming from far away.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" She looked at the Colonel. Hannibal found her eyes through the lengthening shadows, rain slicking his silvered hair down.  
  
  
"He's having a flashback. Don't be frightened, we've dealt with this before. Right Lieutenant? Sergeant?" Stabbing each man with a look, iron-hard. B.A. and Face seemed to shake off the spell of Murdock's rantings, accepting the Colonel's lead. Mina looked back at Murdock. He was struggling with Face, trying to reach the pistol in his pants pocket. She cried out before she could think.  
  
  
"Murdock no! It's Mina!" Her heart stopping when he turned those eyes on her, hissing something in a language she didn't recognize - Vietnamese? She gained her feet, ran forward before anyone could stop her, pushing Hannibal out of the way to take the pilot's left hand. He flinched away from her, almost jerking his hand out of her grasp.  
  
"You - wait. Colonel. Colonel, she's just a kid. . ." What was he seeing? The child of before, or someone else? Please Murdock, see me, see me! Don't fall away from me. . .  
  
"All of you stay still. STAY STILL! Not one move. Told ya we'd find them, eh?"  
  
A young man dressed in familiar blue jumpsuit and boots stepped into the clearing, followed by several more, surrounding them. The Commander's men. Mina's hand clutched Murdock's, and he did not resist. His voice still that hoarse whisper.  
  
  
"We're fucked, aren't we Colonel."  
  
  
Eleven  
  
  
They were courteous enough to allow Face to finish cleaning and rebinding Murdock's arm, before prodding them towards a group of jeeps, path running through the woods not far from the clearing where the vehicles had converged. Many sets of curious eyes on her; the leader took her by the arm and pulled her to the front of their line. He was much older than the other soldiers, and Mina recognized him as one of the Commander's personal guard. She remembered a name; Sandoval. Taylor's shadow, a ruthlessly excellent right-hand man most of the soldiers were afraid of.  
  
"Are you alright, soldier?" he asked right off, but the words rang false to her, his face devoid of expression, grip on her arm tightening. Mina blanched, tried to pull away, got her arm yanked for her thoughtlessness. Refused to look up at him.  
  
"I'm okay. I was in that chopper you guys shot down, you know."  
  
"That was Petersen's group. Didn't do a very thorough job of searching the area, it seems. Commander would like to speak to you, soon as we reach the Range." He stared straight ahead, practically dragging her along. She tried to slow his pace, tried to set her own, looking over her shoulder to see where the others were. Sandoval was having none of it, only thing holding her up when she tripped was that vicelike hold on her arm. Noticed he didn't express too much remorse over her brush with death, except to acknowledge Petersen's fuck-up.  
  
She was pushed into the back of one of the jeeps, her eyes going to Murdock and each of the others in turn. Murdock had managed to stay conscious, but leaned heavily on B.A. after sitting in another jeep, seemed to be muttering to himself. B.A. cast murderous glances about him, a few of the youngest soldiers backing off even with weapons trained on the big man. Sandoval observed all this with a cool eye, indicated Murdock with a raise of his chin.  
  
"Something's off with that guy. He doesn't make sense. He get a head injury?"  
  
"Yes." Fuck if she would elaborate. "What's gonna happen to them?"  
  
  
"Not your problem, soldier. Move out!" he yelled, as Face and Hannibal settled into a third jeep. There were five in all, surprising the Colonel hadn't discovered these soldiers, or the jeep path. Well, it had taken another mile to reach this area. She caught Face's eye as their jeep whined past, gears grinding. He looked preoccupied, but held his gaze steady on her, trying to reassure her or something, she guessed. They all seemed to communicate without speech sometimes, wished she understood it. For a moment she felt better though, until she saw Murdock up close. B.A. holding him up now, arm around him, the pilot's head on the larger man's shoulder, eyes closed. She shivered. Didn't think anything could scare the big guy, made her mouth dry to see the fear underneath his anger.  
  
  
The jeep path was tortuously slow-going, as the rain steadily turned the hard-packed dirt into sludge. Twice they had to stop to pry a wheel from the mud. Mina's jumpsuit now only served to trap the water that dripped from her hair down her neck, making her skin slide irritatingly inside the heavy material. Sandoval ignored both the weather and her, standing up several times to view his group's progress towards the Range. One hour turned to two, then three; her body sensed a change in their pace, and she opened her eyes to see the main compound clearing the trees to either side, the Commander standing in front of the closed gateway.  
  
************  
Rain drummed hypnotically on the roof of the wooden shed in which the team had been imprisoned, a couple small horizontal slits near the ceiling the only thing keeping them from suffocating in the heavy humidity. Face was pacing again, trying to regain composure, damn, it was amazing how Murdock had that uncanny ability to open his mouth and tear down all the carefully built walls of polish and sophistication the conman had created over the years.  
  
Lieutenant Templeton Peck, Bravo Company, 1st Platoon was not a facet of himself Face wanted to embrace at this moment. Couldn't believe he'd slid right into that give and take with Murdock, what the hell happened to his control? Hannibal telling Mina they'd dealt with this before, sure, but never this way, he'd never felt that physical step backwards into another time and place like that, never heard Murdock revert to a past that all of them would rather forget.  
  
He knew it had something to do with Murdock's condition, just pile it on top of his reaction to Mina and what you had was a mess. And then he'd felt himself slipping, sucked straight into the jungle, rain not helping either, why not introduce a few hundred fire ants into the picture and call it finished? He dug his fingers into his knees for a moment, realizing even his thoughts had a dangerous bent to them. Squeezed his eyes shut, anchored himself in the here and now. Had to help Murdock.  
  
  
Opened his eyes to find B.A. staring at him, wanting reassurance that Murdock would be okay, fever would go down, arm wouldn't go septic on him. The pilot was half-propped against B.A., struggling to keep his eyes open as Face took his wrist, counted the beats against his fingers. Hannibal paced behind them, guy was on the jazz but it had an angry urgency to it, fueled by Murdock's condition and Sandoval's treatment of them. Hannibal had asked for the infirmary; his answer had been a sneering Sandoval. That bastard was going down.  
  
"Don't like how he looks, Faceman," B.A. said quietly, putting a large hand up to Murdock's flushed cheek. "Fever's worse."  
  
  
Face brought his own hand up, lightly touched Murdock's forehead. The pilot stared through him, seemed to concentrate on each labored breath, arm had to be on fire, and the medkit was with Mina. He hoped she was okay, good thing she couldn't see Murdock like this. He glanced around distractedly for a canteen, but those kids playing soldier had taken everything from them. He rose, feeling helpless, wanted to kick the wall but took a deep breath instead, rubbing his eyes, and walked over to Hannibal. The Colonel didn't wait for him to speak.  
  
"Lieutenant, we are getting out of here."  
  
"Uh, Hannibal, we have a situation here, it's not looking too simple, you know? Murdock has a fever, you wanna just march right back into the forest with him like that?"  
  
Hannibal turned to skewer him with one of his looks. "This isn't exactly the Holiday Inn, Face. Looks like this shack is the extent of their guest accommodations. They don't give a damn what happens to us. One of us dies?" He shrugged cynically. "Strictly an inconvenience. I wanna know what the hell's going on, but we're getting some supplies first, starting with the infirmary."  
  
"And how are we to accomplish that?"  
  
  
"I haven't figured that out yet. But I will. Go make sure Murdock's comfortable." Hannibal stepped closer, lowered his voice. "How is he really, Face?"  
  
"Bad."  
  
"Mm-hmm." The Colonel glanced over Face's shoulder, blinked twice, turned to pace again. Face returned to stand over Murdock, frowning as his thoughts circled, trying to find an answer, or something to do, anything. . . Murdock opened his eyes, looked up at him, brief moment of lucidity.  
  
"Hey Temp." Oh man, it was like that, eh? Face knelt in front of him, trying to catch his faint words.  
  
"Hey yourself. How are you feeling?" Double question.  
  
  
"I'm not movin', s'all I ask right now. It stop rainin'?" Face tried to dismiss the mental images parading through his mind, Murdock crouched beside him in towering elephant grass, flight helmet still on after fleeing a burning helicopter, first mission, everything gone wrong, two stupid kids realizing that war was for keeps. Glanced up at B.A., recalled the Sergeant carrying the dead gunner for miles before the Colonel ordered him to leave the boy behind, remembered the tears in the brown eyes as B.A. laid him tenderly against a tree, hands folded over the shattered chest. Jesus, get a grip.  
  
"We're in a shed, Murdock. Remember, the Range, where we got Mina yesterday?" Any of this getting through buddy?  
  
"The Range. . . yeah, rings some bells, somewhere. . . where's Mina?" Good, Face thought, he's with us, at least for now.  
  
  
"Probably talking to that Commander of hers. How's your arm feeling?"  
  
"Ya want the truth or a really good story to make us all feel better?" Murdock tried to laugh, coughed instead, closing his eyes against dizziness. Managed to stay conscious. Face saw B.A. tighten his hold on the pilot, expression darkening. Face could tell he wanted to wreck something, or someone.  
  
"You stay quiet and rest," B.A. growled, gruffness shielding emotions he refused to let take hold.  
  
"Didn't think I hit my head that hard," Murdock murmured.  
  
"The shock caused by your arm isn't doing you any favors," Face said.  
  
"Thirsty."  
  
It took everything Face had to keep from losing his temper, letting the situation overwhelm him. Christ, it was inhuman, withholding water, no food, no air, day already sweltering - he took a deep breath.  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Murdock," he said softly. "They took all our supplies, including the water. We'll get you some as soon as we can." Face rose abruptly, afraid to let his friend see his eyes. Took careful, controlled steps to stand next to Hannibal. He looked up at his Colonel, all masks set aside.  
  
"We don't have much time."  
  
  
Twelve  
  
  
She wasn't prepared for the shame pressing down on her, facing her Commander after more hours waiting in her bunk. Mina stood ramrod straight at attention, chin up, stomach in, felt her triceps tensing, tendons straining to align her arms perfectly at her sides. Keep the blank stare on the back wall, and everything would be fine -   
  
"Soldier," he began, how he addressed everyone, just 'soldier,' no titles, no name, just another peg in the board, "we have a situation here."  
  
Mina said nothing, waited.  
  
"The men brought in with you are obviously mercenaries." Commander Luhrman Taylor leaned on his desk, tall thin man, iron-gray hair cut to military standards, pale eyes could be kind or cutting. She could not read them now.  
  
  
"Can you explain what's been happening? We've been looking for you since eighteen-hundred yesterday evening."  
  
She cleared her throat. "Those men were hired by my sister. She thought I was in some kinda trouble over here. At the Range, I mean. Sir." Hastily added that last, geez, was her training already undermined?  
  
The Commander came around the side of the desk, crossing his arms, stood and looked down at her. Mina raised her chin a fraction, shifted her feet closer together.  
  
"Soldier." Voice low and quiet now. "That is highly improbable. People like your sister do not go out and search for mercenaries. They call the police, or their lawyer."  
  
"I know it sounds crazy, sir" - and how was Murdock, anyway? - "but I believe them. I would have had the chance to talk to her, sir, but the helicopter was shot down before we reached town."  
  
"Yes." Eyes narrowed, disapproval crossed his features. "I have disciplined Petersen for that." He didn't elaborate, just cocked his head to one side to watch her for an uncomfortable moment. Stepped even closer. Mina had to look up at him, unless she wished to stare at his chest.  
  
"You have been a good soldier, Mina." She relaxed as he used her name. "Gotten top marks in your classes, no trouble." He smiled, the kindly father looking after his charges. "I feel you have been through quite enough already. This little incident is unfortunate, but hardly your fault. Now." He strode back behind the desk, sat and rifled determinedly through several papers. "Why don't you go shower, and change for dinner. You may rejoin your bunkmates after the meal. Classes as usual tomorrow." Tamped the papers together on one end to straighten them, slid them into a manila folder. Looked up at her, and noticed the expression on her face. "Is there something else, soldier?"  
  
  
Mina shifted uneasily. "Commander Taylor sir. . . there was a man brought in today, one of the, uh, mercenaries? He was injured in the crash. I was just wondering if he was alright, sir."  
  
For a moment, the pale irises refracted the light, pupils turned to pinpoints. His face was very still.  
  
"Soldier, this is a direct order. Do not ask questions. It is not your place. You are here for a reason, and you have been a model of obedience so far. Don't rock the boat. I know you've been through hell, but the important thing is that you're back, and you're safe. Those men are no longer your concern."  
  
Mina couldn't help herself, looked directly at him. Watched his eyes widen at her temerity. "Please, sir, he was nice to me. I think - something's wrong with him. But in any case, I just wanna know he's okay. That's all. Is he in the infirmary?" She shrank from that gaze, eyes flat and dull like coins. "Please sir, can I see him?"  
  
  
The Commander's transformation was astounding. He drew loud, rapid breaths, rising slowly from his chair, careful steps towards her as if he would break the floor with his rage. Mina's body tensed, she tried to exert her will over her unwilling feet, but fear won over and she took a step back. In her face now, she could see the pale eyes were an unsettling shade of yellow-green, gray ringing that wan color.  
  
"You are out of line. Are you brainwashed or something? They kidnapped you, and almost got you killed. If he lives, he lives. If he dies," he shrugged, slow tilt of his head, images of a snake rising unbidden to her mind. "You are not to see them. They are my problem, and I - will - deal with them." He glanced to either side of her, as if suddenly realizing they were nose to nose. Straightened to his full height, snapped his jumpsuit into line, smile slowly slitting the narrow face. Mina blinked several times, eyes back on the map behind his desk now, only thing marring the wooden walls of the mobile office.  
  
"You are dismissed." Don't look at him. Salute, spin on heel, out the screen door.  
  
Mina made it to her bunk before the shaking took her.  
  
***************  
  
When she was jolted awake, the luminous dials on her watch read 3:17a.m. Slept right through dinner, just enough energy to shower and change. No appetite after the Commander's office.  
  
The rain was harder, more insistent now. She turned her head, the dreary view through the window showing her nothing but needles of water streaking the panes. A tear escaped, slid down towards her ear. She could not stay now.  
  
  
Screw this, angrily she wiped tears away, slid out of bed, cat-footed to her locker for her boots and the extra duffel she had. Her bunkmates did not stir. Everything inside the bag; didn't plan on coming back. Slipped the lock on the bathroom window, out and down with practiced ease.  
  
Dull yellow lights could not penetrate the gray drizzle, and she crept along the side of her bunkhouse, noticed the night watch was taking it easy under the mess hall overhang. Had to find the guys. Had to get medical supplies, maybe Face could help with that. Where were they?  
  
  
She was covered in mud by the time she made the treeline, where crude wooden shacks holding supplies were lined up. Twin sentries stood outside one, and she cursed viciously, should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Forced herself to breathe, slowly, purposefully. Inched back to the wood shed, edged the door open, and found a nice hefty two-by-four, just waiting for some unsuspecting guard. She managed to get around towards the back of the sheds, almost slipping in the muck. The rain plastered her hair against her cheek, water running freely down her face, but it also hid her footsteps from the sentries. Close, closer, almost there. . . whipped the two-by-four around into the first guy, knee to the head, quick hay-maker took care of the second. Mina stood over their inert forms, catching her breath. Fumbling for the keys took much longer than she desired, where the fuck's the right one, finally, finally. She turned the lock and peaked around the door into absolute darkness.  
  
"Guys?"  
  
"Mina?" Heard her name whispered, then Hannibal appeared as he lit a match, shadows jumping in the flickering flame. She indicated the downed men with a jerk of her head. Face appeared out of the blackness to help her bring them inside.  
  
"Where's Murdock?" She felt her stomach constrict as she asked. Face's blue eyes were too serious. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, flicked it on.  
  
Saw B.A. leaning against the wall, Murdock half-lying against his chest, eyes closed. She traded glances with B.A., who looked so tired, but managed to smile for her. The pilot's eyes opened slowly, closed again.  
  
"Murdock." His cheek under her fingers was hot and dry, and he did not answer her. She got up slowly, turned to Face.  
  
"They give you anything to eat or drink?"  
  
"No," he answered, voice flat and deadly. She swung her duffel around, unzipped it.  
  
"Here." Tossed him her canteen and emergency rations. "We'll get more supplies from the infirmary. They keep rations there too."  
  
Hannibal appeared at her elbow. "Where's the infirmary, kid?"  
  
  
"Other side of the compound." She sighed, pushed the fear back so she could think. "You guys are in deep shit. The Commander doesn't care what happens to you. Thinks something else is up, and you guys are here to bring him down or something."  
  
"He tell you that?" the Colonel asked.  
  
"No. But - I just know. He was so different before. . . tch, maybe I'm just stupid, all in my head. Shoulda seen his eyes today when I asked about Murdock. I thought he was gonna hit me."  
  
Hannibal put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry kid. You would have found out sooner or later."  
  
The sudden movement made her jump. She looked down to see Murdock struggling with B.A., the bigger man whispering angrily for him to stay still. The pilot pushed him away, stood swaying. Mina gawked.  
  
"Sit down, fool! Gonna make things worse!"  
  
  
"We gotta go, B.A., and the only way that's happenin' is if I'm walkin'." He seemed to waver, but brushed away Face's attempts to support him. "This little girl's nice enough to show us the way out, then I'm all for it." His eyes were too bright, and glassy. She took hold of his arm. When he looked down at her, she did not know who he saw.  
  
"Murdock, you should rest until we figure out what to do."  
  
He shook his head, grinning at her. "I've had enough of this joint. The service is terrible. Whatcha say, Colonel? We outta here or what?"  
  
B.A. wore a pleading expression, incongruous on such a man. "Murdock, please. Shut up and sit back down. Ya already have a fever, a bad one. Let us get the supplies, then we'll go. Murdock?"  
  
"Shhh! You hear that?" Murdock frowned, ignoring the other men, drew his arm out of Mina's grasp.  
  
"Shit! Stop him!" Face almost shouted, as Murdock went out the door.  
  
  
Thirteen  
  
Someone was crying.  
  
Murdock stumbled outside, wondered why is everything sideways? Passed a hand over his eyes, but he couldn't see, shadows crept at the corners of his vision, that high wailing making him shake his head.  
  
"Murdock!"  
  
Told himself ignore those voices, just the crying, that was real, everything else only tricks to pull him back, the gathering dark suffocating him, hot, too hot all the time now -   
  
He slipped as the rain fell like ice pellets on his fevered skin, sodium lights blinding him. Shrieking pain ran up his arm, he gritted his teeth against the cry that rose to his lips, couldn't give himself away, they'd find him and thrust him back into that consuming, sweltering dark.  
  
- the girl beckoning to him into the trees -   
  
. . . holding a gun? Dizziness swept over him and he paused, ignoring the rain now falling in torrents, slapping the ground like tiny bullets and flooding the compound.  
  
It wasn't the girl, it wasn't Vietnam, where the hell was he? Murdock doubled over as a confusing montage of images flooded his mind, past and present, a pixie girl with short spiky hair whose tears filled him with sorrow and hope.  
  
  
Mina.  
  
In a flash of realization Murdock knew he was in trouble. He fought for control over the miasma of pain and disorientation threatening to knock him senseless, overriding even the bright flashes of photo-negative memories, unnamable fears and horrors he tried to keep where no one would see. Except for her. She saw everything, and he didn't know why.  
  
"Mina."  
  
Felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, expecting her. No. Faced a tall man with horrible yellow eyes, expressionless and hollow.  
  
"Who - "  
  
Fingers dug deep into his broken arm. He was suddenly on his knees, the spots of black in his vision pulsing with his heartbeat.  
  
- peasant in black cotton clothes whispering in his ear, voice like a snake's shed skin, wish to god he didn't understand -   
  
Murdock prayed he would pass out so the fire in his arm would subside. Heard laughing above him and footsteps, someone screaming his name. . . Mina? Mercifully his arm was released, then there were other arms around him, he tried to push away until he heard her voice.  
  
"Murdock, it's me. Can you hear me?"  
  
  
He tried to say, yes, I hear you, kill that man, KILL him, but he felt as though he were living one of his nightmares, moving in slow motion while his eyes slowly closed, knew he was dreaming, knew he was awake. . .  
  
He blinked and suddenly focus was his, stood near the treeline where bodies moved through the downpour, saw a flash of white hair as the Colonel ran past, pursued by two youngsters wearing dark clothes and carrying rifles. Looked down at Mina pressed against his side.  
  
"Jesus, your arm - "  
  
"Forget it." His voice belonged to someone else. He grabbed her hand and ran for the safety of the trees, while gunfire erupted at their backs, and other voices yelled his name.  
  
  
Fourteen  
  
Face backhanded the little shit trying to shoot him, grabbed the falling rifle and tripped the kid's partner. Both on their faces in the slippery mud. Face shook his head.  
  
  
"Amateurs." He backed himself against the nearest shed, disappearing in shadow, watched as a dozen soldiers in dark blue ran past, voices high and excited. He heard Mina mentioned, and wondered where she was, where the rest of his unit was. Eyes narrowed as he thought of Murdock out there in the rain and delirious. B.A. emerged from the mist abruptly on his right, a soldier's collar grasped in each large hand. Face whistled, and the Sergeant's head swiveled towards the sound.  
  
"Faceman." B.A. looked down at the two soldiers, and promptly knocked their heads together. Wiped his hands on his coveralls and looked up, scowling.  
  
"You find Murdock?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Crazyman woke up the whole camp," B.A. said disgustedly. "The Colonel's tryin' to find Taylor. We gotta bring him down, 'fore he organizes those soldiers of his. Must be a hundred kids here."  
  
"And that's our only advantage right now, they're just kids," Face said, eyes constantly roving. He saw a few soldiers in the distance, but no Hannibal, no Murdock or Mina.  
  
"He got four or five more men 'bout his age," B.A. said. They stood in the dark, discussed pros and cons, hoping the Colonel would find them. Noticed a light go on in one of the mobile buildings about thirty feet away, then Hannibal emerged, pistol in one hand, Sandoval in the other. Face whistled again, not wanting to leave their hiding place. Hannibal pushed the shorter man ahead of him, the pistol in the guy's back.  
  
"Look what I found," The Colonel said, eyes gleaming. "You wouldn't believe what these guys are up to." He looked from B.A. to Face. "Where's Murdock and Mina?"  
  
"We hoped they were with you," Face answered, tension mounting in his shoulders.  
  
Sandoval showed his teeth. "The Commander's gonna want his soldier back. He'll go through your pilot to get her."  
  
Hannibal cuffed him in the head with his pistol. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." He looked up at Face, gleam gone, expression sober. Face knew that look. One of his men in trouble, time to cut a path through any obstacle, that look he so often wore in 'Nam.  
  
"Murdock's out there somewhere," waving a hand in the direction of the woods, "and we're bringing him back in. Anyone know where Mina's bunk is?"  
  
B.A. looked at him strangely. "What you talkin' about?"  
  
Hannibal smiled mirthlessly. "We're outnumbered, guys. We need to balance the odds a little. I'll bet even our difficult Mina made friends here, and we're gonna ask for their help."  
  
Face said quietly, "How do you know he's out there?"  
  
Hannibal's eyes on the woods now. "I know."  
  
***************  
Mina strained to listen over her own frightened breathing, boots crunching through the undergrowth in the dark, occasional glare of a lantern cutting through the trees. She huddled against Murdock under the sheltering exposed roots of a giant oak, tall swathes of wild grasses further hiding them from the soldiers searching for them. A figure came within inches of the tree, startling her so she nearly jumped, nearly cried out; Murdock closed a hand over her mouth hard, as the soldier peered into the gloom, cursing when she almost tripped. Then she was moving away. Mina closed her eyes briefly, gently pried Murdock's fingers from her face. She could feel him shaking, whether from fever or pain or both, it didn't matter. Problem was, they were stuck out here, the Commander probably riding everyone's ass to find them, and where was the rest of the team? Hoped they were coming to the rescue.  
  
Murdock had chosen this spot well; after a few minutes, she began to hear the faint chirping of night birds, nocturnal creatures coming out after the rush of humanity had left. Something hard and cold in her right hand, she remembered her scuffle with the Commander.  
  
"Here," she whispered, barely audible, reaching back to give the gun to Murdock after thumbing the safety off.  
  
  
"Thanks, muchacha." She felt him shift slightly, looking over her shoulder. "We'll stay here a mite longer. If the Colonel's around he'll want us to stay in one place, easier to find us that way." He paused, catching his breath, seemed to be an effort for him to speak. "That man with the yellow eyes. . . he the Commander you've been talkin' about?"  
  
"Yeah." She shivered, remembering his expression just before they ran. "He won't stop looking for us, I know that. I - I kicked him in the knee, to get you free. That's his gun."  
  
He was silent so long she thought he'd passed out. "Murdock? You still with me?"  
  
"Not goin' anywhere if I can help it." His body was tense with the effort of staying conscious. The rain ebbed, allowing them some relief, although she thanked god the ground underneath the tree was covered in leaves, saving them from the mud. The roots arced over them, curving and twisting, indention in the tree itself like a small cave. We must be a sight, stuck under this damn tree, completely soaked. . . she started to laugh under her breath, feeling slightly hysterical. Murdock nudged her in the back, and she subsided, wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.  
  
They waited so long Mina eventually relaxed against him, her legs propped up on the lower roots. He curled his left arm around her, a quick hug, probably meant to reassure her or something, she didn't know. She gazed up at the clearing sky, fragment of cloud allowing a few stars to peak through, and wondered why every gesture of affection from him brought her to the edge of tears.  
  
  
She must have fallen asleep, the crack of gunfire jolting her up. She tumbled away as Murdock leaned over a particularly large root, using it to steady his aim. She heard a cacophony of shouts and curses, more gunfire.  
  
"What the hell are they shooting at?" she asked him, peaking over the roots to peer into the darkness.  
  
"Must be the Colonel. The cavalry's arrived." She could see his teeth as he grinned. A low trilling whistle sounded far to their left. Murdock answered it, slightly different tone. Mina whooped, jumping up.  
  
"Mina, get your ass back down!" She turned, surprised at his vehemence, to see a shadow looming over him.   
  
"Murdock!"   
  
Too late as the Commander slipped a knife under Murdock's throat.  
  
  
Fifteen  
  
The Commander perched on the overhanging roots, one hand in Murdock's hair, the other poised under his chin, the blade winking in the dark. Stared at Mina, animal grin as he yanked Murdock's head back further. She took a step forward, trying to see, stopped when she heard the pilot gasp.  
  
"Well. Seems I have the advantage, soldier. You remember your lessons, don't you soldier? Tactical advantage, the give and take in a situation, how it can so quickly move against you. Well, this is one of those times, soldier," his voice growing lower and deeper, spitting the word 'soldier' at her with venom. Mina stood rooted, her mind going in circles, wondered who Murdock had answered with that whistle and if he was close enough to help them.  
  
"What's wrong, soldier? Cat got your tongue?" He snorted in derision. "I cannot believe you would betray me for a bunch of mercs who fucking kidnapped you."  
  
"Well, with your happy disposition, is it any wonder?" Murdock's answer was for the Commander to twist the pilot's head around until they were eye to eye. Mina couldn't decide who was crazier.  
  
"How's that arm?" Taylor gritted, the whites of his eyes showing. "Looks like it might heal wrong, if it heals at all. No more flying for you, eh?"  
  
"Guess I'll have to use my teeth." Murdock laughed until the knife bit deeper into his neck.  
  
"Stop it!" Mina cried, frustration mounting. She wanted Murdock to shut up and increase his chances of living. The Commander stared at her, his shining eyes mellowing for a moment.  
  
"You know, I had great hopes for you, Mina. . . you were a top soldier. I was going to offer you a position in my guards. . ." His voice trailed off. He actually looked upset, disappointed. Through her confusion she remembered their first meeting, sullen brat slouching pigeon-toed in front of his desk, the Commander crisp and efficient in his spotless uniform, his voice and demeanor snapping her into line. Her role-model. . . she tried to reconcile these memories with the present situation, turned away as her uncertainty only grew. Looked back at Murdock, who was pleading with his eyes. He wanted her away, forget about him, save herself. . . no. She knew what she had to do. She swung back at attention, eyes forward, heels together, arms straight at her sides.  
  
"Sir. I apologize for all the mistakes in . . . judgement I have made the past few days. I will return with you to camp - "  
  
"The hell!" Murdock exclaimed, only to be cut off by the Commander.  
  
" - if you will let the team that took me go free, no questions asked."  
  
The Commander was silent, and she could not see his expression in the dark. Murdock was staring at her, dark eyes piercing in the sudden shaft of moonlight, the knife at his throat the only thing keeping him quiet. She looked away.  
  
"Well." The Commander relaxed his hold on Murdock slightly, blade drawn away from his flesh. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my assessment of your character. Just one thing, soldier. Why should I let these men go free? They've been nothing but trouble for me, screwing up my schedule, involving themselves in situations they know nothing about."  
  
Mina took a deep breath, hoped he couldn't see her fear in the darkness. "Please, sir. They didn't mean any harm. They thought they were helping me, that's all."  
  
"Mina. . . " Murdock's barely perceptible utterance of her name cut her to the bone. She did not move or acknowledge him.  
  
The Commander straightened, pulling Murdock up with him until the pilot was standing.  
  
"Very well. Much as I hate to admit it, this merc team is more. . . resourceful than I thought possible. Right now they are out here with your entire bunk, trying to get you and their pilot back. You tell them to back off, that you're coming with me willingly, and I'll let them go. But they'd better cooperate."  
  
". . . snowball's chance in hell," Murdock was muttering angrily. Mina could see the Commander go very still, and she swallowed, fixed Murdock with a warning look. Shut up, and you'll be free. Trust me. He ignored her. It hurt more than she thought it would.  
  
"I'll do my best, sir."  
  
"Don't do this, Mina." His voice very low.  
  
"It's what I have to do." Glad her voice didn't break. God help me. She took a deep breath, raised her voice to carry. Tear slipping down her cheek.  
  
"Colonel! Call off your search, Murdock's with me! The Commander and I have reached an agreement!"  
  
  
Sixteen  
  
Bullshit. Straight bullshit, this whole deal.  
  
Murdock seethed as Face pushed the needle into his arm, stared at that fucker Sandoval who smirked down at him like he was lunch. Rage building as this rat-faced waste of space gloated, thinking the team was pacified, soldier back, no problem, right? My ass. Murdock lifted his chin, letting his eyes widen, pupils contracting in the glare of fluorescents, allowed that hint of insanity out that unnerved most everyone. Sandoval blinked, stepped back involuntarily. Murdock grinned, skull-like. Face moving to his right side, pulling the dirty bandages away, complaining about infection and fever. Sandoval straightened, lips thinned now in anger. Murdock glanced down at his arm, ruin of bone and blood, sharp shards that grated with every step. That Commander Taylor was right, but never mind healing wrong. It wasn't healing, pure and simple. He looked back up, snapped his teeth together twice at the Commander's Right Hand. Sandoval stared hatefully, spoke to Face.  
  
"He get his rabies shots?"  
  
The conman raised an elegant eyebrow, didn't look up from swabbing the wound.  
  
"Worried he'll bite you?" he asked pleasantly.  
  
"Tch. Hell yeah. Better get him a muzzle."  
  
"Don't worry," Murdock spoke through fever-haze. "I'm well-trained. 'Less someone orders me to attack."  
  
"Fuckin' crazy," Sandoval muttered, stepping back again.  
  
"Oooh, he is payin' attention, Face! Let's give him a bright shiny blue star!"  
  
"Murdock - "  
  
"What? Shut up? Stay still so I can play surgeon out here in the wilderness, no your arm's not gonna be completely fucked, it'll be just fine? Everything's fine, Mina's fine, I'm fine, everything's just fuckin' PEACHY?"  
  
"Captain." Murdock turned his head to see the Colonel behind him, one hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy."  
  
He took a deep breath, nodded to his commanding officer. "Sorry, Colonel."  
  
"Tell your attack-dog here to behave."  
  
The Colonel turned, gracious smile. Planning.  
  
"It's obvious the Captain doesn't like you. Come to think of it, I don't like you either. Why don't you step outside, give us some room."  
  
Sandoval moved towards the door of the infirmary, eyes on Murdock. "You better behave yourselves in here. No funny business." Murdock lifted his lip, showed his canines. Sandoval fled.  
  
Murdock laughed until he saw Face's expression. "Hey, Facey, don't be mad, okay? I'm sorry. I won't yell, I'll be a good little patient."  
  
Face looked up, sighed. "I'm not mad, Murdock. I'm worried. At least they have antibiotics, but the bones won't mend without a proper cast."  
  
"You did what you could." Murdock patted Face's hand absently, mind spooling to another frame. Mina was with the Commander somewhere. Murdock was getting her out, away. The objective was clear, but how to execute? He looked expectantly at the Colonel, who knew exactly what he was thinking. So why that look on his face?  
  
"Murdock, you don't look good. You should lie down somewhere."  
  
"Heh. Tell me something I don't know."  
  
"I know you want to find Mina - "  
  
Murdock didn't realize he'd grabbed the Colonel's arm until he was eye-to-eye with the man.  
  
"We have to get her out, Colonel. He'll hurt her."  
  
Hannibal didn't move, stared back a long time, the silence punctuated only with the clink of small glass bottles on the metal tray, Face pulling cotton from a jar, adding iodine. Murdock remembered his throat, released the Colonel and reached up with his left hand. Face caught it, smiling.  
  
"Ah, ah. Let me handle this." Murdock submitted to his friend's ministrations as the Colonel pulled a chair up, sat, reached for a cigar, then remembered they were all ruined by the rain. He sighed, crossed his arms.  
  
"We only did this to buy some time, and get you into the infirmary," he began, looking at Murdock. "I don't intend for Mina to stay here. At the same time  
. . .I highly doubt the good Commander intends us to leave."  
  
"Trap," B.A. said shortly, leaning against the wall.  
  
"Well, duh. Nice deduction, big guy." Murdock stared at the ceiling. B.A. shot him a warning look. Murdock knew he was being an asshole, and couldn't help himself. Thought of Mina walking away with the Commander, and his insides turned cold. That man had more power over the girl than she would admit, stupid, stupid move to give herself up. Murdock pictured Taylor standing over her, turn of phrase and inflection in his voice convincing her that she had done the right thing, and wouldn't she like to get back to her training? Like he was running a summer camp or something. Murdock stood suddenly, the antibiotics kicking his senses up over the fever, allowing his mind to clear a bit. Left hand was still good, can fly left-handed, just grab Mina and go! He'd seen the helicopter pad at the eastern side of the compound.  
  
"Hey! Murdock, please. Sit down so I can finish." Whoops. Maybe not that clear. Murdock shrugged, sat again, whistling a tune while the words ran in his head. Face had that martyred look as he smoothed gauze over his neck, and the Colonel was trying to get his attention.  
  
"What is it, Colonel?" Murdock shared a grin with Hannibal, expressions matching.  
  
"I've got a plan."  
  
"Fire away."  
  
  
"It's like this - "  
  
Interrupted by the door opening, the Commander striding in, big man again, back in control. Yellow in his eyes diluted with gray-green now, see, no cruel insidious thoughts here, just a man watching out for his soldiers. Murdock wanted to slap the shit out of him.  
  
"Good morning, gentlemen. I see you've fixed your pilot up. Please feel free to take any extra medical supplies you need, and we've scheduled a jeep to take you out to the town."  
  
The Colonel raised his hand, cutting him off. "Let's slow down, Taylor. We want to see Mina first."  
  
"Absolutely not," Taylor said crisply. "It's a bad idea, she needs to get back to her training."  
  
"Why, so you can ship her off to augment some terrorist organization after brain-washing her into thinking it's what she wants to do?"  
  
If the Colonel noticed his team staring open-mouthed at him, he didn't mention it. The Commander, however, seemed to be having trouble with breathing. And blood circulation. Murdock observed with interest that his face was turning very red.  
  
"I would like to know what you are implying."  
  
"I imply nothing. I'm telling you. Seen your papers, contracts, the whole thing. Sandoval was patient enough to stand by while I did a little reading. Nice kid, except for the head-up-his-ass thing." Now Hannibal was enjoying himself. Murdock wondered how big a hole his soldiers would have to dig after the Commander shot them all and buried them in the woods. Pretty big, he guessed.  
  
Taylor, fists clenched at his sides, stalked forward to stand over Hannibal, who still sat, smiling away. That freakin' jazz was about to get them all killed.  
  
"You and your men have exactly an hour to get yourselves together and over to the jeep lot. I did Mina a favor by letting you guys off. Don't make me regret it." He was out the door before Hannibal could agree. Face looked at him sourly.  
  
"So much for the element of surprise."  
  
  
Seventeen  
  
  
Mina knew she should be sleeping, but something guided her to the shooting range instead. The crack of gunfire, smell of powder and straw from the targets was strangely comforting. She took aim, heard familiar whistling and froze. Murdock stood not ten feet away, leather jacket draped over his shoulders, arm re-bandaged. She scowled, turned back towards the target, pulled the trigger. The shot went wide, scoring on the white ring outside.  
  
"You're pullin' to your left," Murdock said calmly.  
  
"You shouldn't be here," she retorted, racking another cartridge into the chamber of the rifle.  
  
"I told you not to do this. You think you're safe, soon as we're gone? -If- he lets us go, that is. I have my doubts."  
  
"Go away, Murdock," she spoke through gritted teeth. "I chose this. I made a deal with the Commander. He sees you here, the deal's off."  
  
He snatched the rifle from her hands so quickly she had no time to protest. Spun her to face him. He was frighteningly pale in the harsh morning light, dark smudges of shadow under each eye. Mina's anger grew.  
  
"What do you want from me?" Shouting, the rest of the range growing suddenly still. One of her bunkmates two rows away looked at her oddly, noticed Murdock, started towards them.  
  
"I want you to use your head, girl! We can still get you out!"  
  
"Why? So the Commander can have a reason to come after you? So you can die out here, with no one to mourn you? Look around you, Murdock! The Commander owns this place, and while you're here, and I'm here, he owns us too!"  
  
"I'm not leaving you here."  
  
"Yes you are!"  
  
"Mina?" She turned to look at the tall, slim black girl who stood, one hand on her hip, the other gripping a Smith and Wesson semi-automatic pistol.  
  
"It's alright, Cheron. He's a friend."  
  
Cheron glanced quickly about her. "If he's one of those men from last night, he better make himself scarce. Sandoval's on his way over here."  
  
Murdock grinned, shadow of his old lunacy. "This should be interesting."  
  
Mina pushed him away, careful of his arm. He staggered, caught off guard. "Get the hell out of here, Murdock. And leave my rifle before you go." She turned away. Cheron eyed her with concern.  
  
Murdock moved towards her instead. "I'm not gonna leave you here with that man. The guy's psycho. I should know, I've got an eye for that sort of thing."  
  
She nearly screamed in frustration. "What do you care? I'm just another dollar in your pocket anyway! You got paid up front, right? You're only here cuz my sister paid you to be!"  
  
The hurt in his eyes stabbed at her.  
  
"You don't believe that."  
  
"I don't know what to believe." She shook her head. "Why are you confusing me? Everything made sense before. Now it's all messed up."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Mina said nothing, as tears blurred her vision, targets wavering in her tearful gaze. What did Murdock mean to her? She didn't understand her own feelings, didn't know what drew her to this man whose head was in the clouds, ghosts drifting through his vision whenever he looked at her. He touched her heart in a way no one had, not even her own family. It wasn't fair. She found a soul kindred with her own, and now she had to let him go. No choice.  
  
"Don't cry, muchacha." He whispered low, his hand on her back. "Why don't you trust me?"  
  
"I do." She could barely speak.  
  
"Then sit tight and wait, stay alert. Taylor's instructed two of his guards to take us back to town in one of his jeeps, but I don't think he wants us to make it that far. We'll take the jeep over and come back for you."  
  
"Dammit Murdock. . . don't you get it? I can't go with you. The Commander   
said - "  
  
"Forget what he said," Murdock snapped, patience obviously thin. "The man would've taken my head off last night if the Colonel hadn't had him surrounded. He's fooled you, but he won't take me in that easily."  
  
"Oh, so now I'm a fool, is that it?" Anger flaring again. God she was acting like a brat.  
  
"Damn, girl." He moved away, paced, yanked his cap down low over his eyes. "You are the most stubborn kid I've ever met!"  
  
"It's gotten me through so far. I don't have anything else."  
  
"Yes you do." His dark eyes full of some emotion she could not name. "You have me."  
  
"How touching," a voice interrupted. Sandoval stood watching them, arms crossed over his chest, one hand holding his revolver. Staring hate at Murdock.  
  
  
"The Commander told you to stay away from her."  
  
Murdock advanced so rapidly that Sandoval stumbled trying to back away. The pilot stared balefully down at him, several inches taller than the guard.  
  
"You know, some people just force me to lose what little control I have. You happen to be one of them."  
  
"I - "  
  
"Shut up. Lackey." Murdock turned back to Mina, completely dismissing the flustered Sandoval. From a pocket in his jacket he produced a small wax paper packet. Pressed it into her hand, his eyes trying to say what he couldn't utter aloud with Sandoval so close. "Take care, Mina. I'll see you soon." He walked away, leaving her baffled.  
  
Later as she cleaned her gun, she remembered the packet, pulled it from her jumpsuit pocket. Sandoval was far away, watching the novices. She slowly unfolded the white wax paper. In the center, dull gleam in the artificial light. Murdock's dog-tags.  
  
  
Eighteen  
  
Murdock told Face the story of the girl and the village, waiting for the jeep in the mounting heat.  
  
Face nodded noncommitally, watching his friend speak, face emotionless, voice flat, like reciting a public announcement. Face understood. He had such stories of his own, behind doors he had closed, locked, the key tossed far, far away.  
  
But Murdock's doors to the past had always been easy to open, the locks picked, or the doors forced open, kicked wide, hinges ripped off. They existed too close to the surface, immersing the pilot in unwanted flashes of remembered horror. His sensitivety scraped raw by blood and death, he found refuge in fantasy, creating personalities which could better deal with cruelty and evil. And when his team couldn't call him back, they left him in the care of the VA.  
  
It happened more often than Face could deal with, sometimes. Murdock's antics could reach frenzied levels, pumped up by danger and the rush of adrenaline, risking himself more and more with each mission they accepted. Face wondered if this was breakdown, or just another stage in the pilot's wavering sanity. Either way, Face would listen. Face was there.  
  
When two hours had passed, still no sign of a driver or anyone else, for that matter, Hannibal grew restless. He had procured a cigar from god knew where, walked with deliberation in a slow circle, chewing on the end. Watching, taking in details, storing them up for later, when Taylor and his faithful dog Sandoval inevitably brought the gauntlet down. They never did get their gear back, not that Face was surprised by this. He hoped the Colonel's plan actually worked this time.  
He hoped the man HAD a plan.   
  
Sandoval finally appeared, took his time loading a green duffel into the back of one jeep, a larger transport with room enough in back for all four of them. Two more soldiers, no more than eighteen, arranged themselves in the front with their leader. Sandoval stared at Hannibal arrogantly.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Hannibal arched a white brow, did not move as he lit the cigar. B.A. growled at the small man.  
  
"Took you long enough," the Sergeant barked, climbing in, turned to help Murdock up, encumbered by his injured arm. Face looked to Hannibal, who gestured for his Lieutenant to follow suit.  
  
"So sorry," Sandoval said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but we had some trouble. Just a little problem with some of the soldiers sneaking around in the trees, carrying many of our more sophisticated automatic weapons. They'll be punished, naturally."  
  
"Naturally," Hannibal drawled, but Face read the dismay in the light eyes, a slight paling of the Colonel's face. So much for the grand plan, Face thought despairingly. He moved his hands, sign for 'weapons' and 'us.' Hannibal nodded, barely perceptible. B.A. looked from one to the other, brows lowering in anger. Murdock seemed oblivious, cradled his right arm as Sandoval started the engine.  
  
Farther down the dusty path, heat already shimmering in the leaves, Hannibal leaned close, his mouth to Face's ear.  
  
"Those were supposed to be our weapons."  
  
"I gathered," Face hissed, fear beginning its slow crawl up his spine. "Now what?"  
  
The Colonel shrugged. "Beats me. I'm up against the wall."  
  
"Ha, ha. Can a firing squad be far behind?"  
  
"Both of you shut up! This ain't funny, Faceman!"  
  
"I know that B.A. Don't you think I know that?"  
  
Face's patience was further tried by the appearance of a second jeep emerging from the trees to their left. The Commander. Of course. Sandoval slowed as the two vehicles met. The Commander leapt gracefully to the forest floor, Sandoval hurrying to confer with him. Face's heart hammered, one hand going to his shoulder holster - damn, damn, damn. Forgot it wasn't there. He glanced at Murdock, eyes smoldering with loathing, staring at Taylor. The two raw recruits in the front seat eyed them all uneasily, intimidated. The Commander strode forward, face a blank mask, emotionless. Ready for the kill.  
  
"Gentlemen."  
  
Hannibal leaned on the seatback, puffing away. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't a courtesy call?"  
  
Taylor stared through him. "You jest, of course. I apologize, Colonel Smith. I do admire you and your team. Your skills are truly admirable. But I think you and I both know I won't let you go back to town." He pulled the rifle from his shoulder, curt gesture to his soldiers to do the same. Face held his breath.  
  
Crack of a rifle and he nearly passed out, saw one of the soldiers fall. Taylor whirled to face the trees. Hannibal shouted "Go!" and the team scattered, falling out of the jeep to cover.  
  
Behind a scraggly brush pine, Face and Murdock watched as small dark-clad bodies emerged from the trees, converged on the path, surrounding Taylor and his group. Murdock drew breath in sharply.  
  
"It's Mina. Over there with her friend." Pointing to two girls, one short, the other a tall African-American with tightly woven braids cascading down her back. At least a dozen young soldiers trained rifles on their Commander. Mina's bunk to the rescue again. Face watched incredulously as the Commander's face darkened with rage.  
  
"Mina Shepherd, you and your bunkmates are in some serious shit."  
  
"Shut up." Mina's voice carried strongly. "I've had enough. I know what to do now." She moved forward, and Face saw something metal wink against the obsidian blue of her jumpsuit. They looked like dog-tags.  
  
"Oh do you now? Three months under my command, all thrown out the window after two days with this group? Don't be ridiculous. Sandoval, check out Frazier." Gestured to the downed soldier screaming and holding his leg. Mina's friend followed Sandoval with her rifle. Mina's weapon remained on the Commander.  
  
"Yeah, that's right, I'm just some stupid kid to you, right? Don't know my ass from a hole in the ground." She paused, her eyes filling with anger, temper rising. "I admired you, Sir. But that's all fucked up now." Anger cut by tears. "You were going to kill Murdock last night. And you would have killed the whole team today. That's right, we were following you. You didn't have a clue, did you? Yes SIR, I learned well from you." The rifle trembled in her hands. Murdock was standing now, protection of the pine forgotten as he watched the interaction between the girl and her former commander. Face pulled on his pants-leg.  
  
"Get down!" His friend didn't hear.  
  
"Well I think I've learned as much as I can from you, Commander Taylor. I'm moving on now." Mina stilled her shaking, steadied the rifle once again. "Cheron, get the rope. Nathan, tie them up. Julian, Michael, help him." She continued to direct her bunkmates, while the Commander spluttered in anger. Face looked for Hannibal, who signed to him the okay. He followed Murdock out to the path once more. Couldn't help but smile at the livid countenance of Commander Luhrman Taylor. Maybe he'd have a heart-attack, do them all a favor.  
  
Taylor arms were rigid, fists clenched as his guards were tied by his own soldiers. Murdock went to stand by Mina. She spoke without moving her eyes from the Commander.  
  
"In that leg pocket. Your gun." Murdock grinned, unzipped a cargo pocket in her pants-leg and pulled the pistol out. Mina glanced up as he stood, checking the barrel, pulling the safety off. They shared a look, immediately oblivious to anything else. Face watched, fascinated. Usually it was B.A. who bonded with these lost children. He missed Taylor pulling a small revolver from his own jumpsuit pocket, only turned when the man spoke.  
  
"You little bitch." Blur of movement, hand raised, finger pulling the trigger. Shouts erupting into the dense air. Murdock snapped into action, no hesitation as he threw himself into Mina.  
  
The forest echoed with the hollow boom of gunfire.  
  
  
Nineteen  
  
Fire burned a line across his cheekbone. Murdock barely acknowledged the pain as he and Mina crashed to the ground. Sparkling points of light in his eyes as the broken arm was jolted, ignored that too, rolled, landed on his back, aimed the pistol at Taylor's head. Left-handed not his forte, but make-do with what you have. First things first.  
  
"Mina, you hit?"  
  
Endless pause while his heart crashed in his ears. "No, I'm okay." Finally. Rage built until he could barely see. He gained his feet, lost split-seconds of time as immediately he was pressing the gun barrel to Taylor's cheek. Damn, how he wanted to pull the trigger. Could taste blood and fury, laughed as fear replaced anger in the Commander's alien eyes. Someone was shouting his name. Face trying to bring him back. He couldn't do it, not yet.  
  
"Pray, you better pray, mother-fucker - " Listened as though he were another person, words from another time, another continent falling from his lips. Taylor met his gaze. Tears formed, skin racing to a shade of gray Murdock knew as terror. He pushed the barrel viciously into the flat cheekbone, grabbed the man's ear, pulled his head down. It was just himself and Taylor, cocoon of stillness around them like a curtain pulled closed. He could smell fear in the other's sweat, line of it down the temple. Taylor spoke hoarsely.  
  
"Don't - what, what can I do, please god - "  
  
"Shut the fuck up." Deep breath as vision receded, blinked to bring it back. Taylor on his knees, Murdock bent over him, watched dispassionately as blood dripped from his cheek onto the Commander's face. "This is how it feels. Like it? Drink it in. Experience makes for a better soldier, isn't that right? Roles are switched now. Feel your throat drying up? Metal against your skin? Hot or cold? How does it feel? Answer me, you piece of shit. Maybe if I like the answer I won't splatter your brains all over the forest floor."  
  
"I - I don't - please, I'm sorry, just don't - "  
  
He felt a weight on his shoulder, gentle pressure but insistent. Turned to find B.A. solemnly resting a hand there. The big man shook his head slowly.  
  
"It ain't worthit, brutha. Don't do it."  
  
Murdock turned back. No. He wouldn't let go yet. Had to grind this insect under his heel. Images like spliced film ran through his mind. Mina's eyes as Taylor pulled the trigger. Little girl falling lifeless into the canopy. His tears falling on her face as he bent over her, mingling with the rain. Mina appearing at the path, around her neck his distant past stamped into metal. His attention slid forward, eyes focused on Taylor. Another voice invaded their little space.  
  
"Murdock? Don't. Not for me. I don't want that." Mina kneeling next to him, her hand on his arm, caught his eyes with hers and held them. She was calm, gaze steady as time flowed past them, around them, their circle untouched.  
  
His blind fury ebbed slowly, washed away. Brain and heart felt scoured. He released the Commander, stood up, let B.A. pull the gun from his fingers. Taylor remained collapsed at his feet. He looked down, once. Turned and walked away, his friends around him.  
  
  
Twenty  
  
Mina zipped the duffel bag, tossed it on the lower bunk. The room was deserted, most of her bunkmates conferring with Hannibal, helping round up the men and women still loyal to Taylor. She sat, chin in hand, absently rubbed the raised lettering on Murdock's dog-tags. Soft steps made her look up.  
  
Cheron walked towards her, sat on the bunk opposite. Mina's partner through all this mess. Building could be on fire and the girl would be unmoved. She nodded her head, glancing around.  
  
"Girl, you sure did manage to turn this place upside-down, didn't you."  
  
"Guess so." They gazed out the window, both pairs of eyes drawn to the still figure leaning against the helicopter. Cheron cleared her throat.  
  
"Someday you gotta tell me what's up with you and him."  
  
Mina chuckled. "It's not what you think. We're - friends."  
  
"Yeah, right. Uh-huh. Alright, alright. I'll take your word for it." Cheron waved her hands in dismissal as Mina began to protest. Grinning, then laughing outright as Mina giggled.  
  
"He's too old for you, girl."  
  
Mina shook her head, struggled for words. Then shrugged. "He makes me feel safe. That's all." She looked up gravely. "You ever felt safe, Cheron?"  
  
"Not in a long time." Cheron looked outside, back at Mina. Nodded. She understood. The girls embraced. Mina slung her duffel over one shoulder, walked outside.  
  
*****************  
  
The treelined drive of the VA hospital surprised her, powerful oaks arching towards eachother in an ancient dance, protecting the road with dappled shadow. Mina gripped the steering wheel in both hands, wished she had taken Face's offer to pick her up. Her nerves were shot to hell. Hadn't seen Murdock in two weeks, since his wild chopper flight back to civilization.  
  
He'd insisted on flying, wouldn't listen to his Colonel about rest, or B.A. ranting that he was a crazy, stupid fool. Paid for it when they got to town, though. Delivering her to her sister's door, he'd saluted her as they stood in the driveway, then passed out. Face had just shaken his head, helped carry him to the waiting van. Only regular updates by phone had pacified her, allowed her to stay with Jenna, work out what she was going to do with her life.  
  
A respiratory infection and complications with his abused arm had the doctors discouraging visitors, but Face called one afternoon, told her he'd book a flight and could even arrange a car, or have one of the guys pick her up. She'd opted to drive, wanting the hours to compose herself, think about everything. It had shaken her to find out that Murdock's home was the Veteran's Administration Hospital. Guess she should have known, the guy was definitely one-hundred-eighty degrees from normal. But what kind of life did he have there? What kind of friendship could they forge if he was locked up all the time?  
  
What exactly was she looking for, anyway?  
  
She slowed as the main building loomed in sight, followed the signs towards the intensive care facility, parked the scammed car in the visitor's lot. The lush, agate-colored carpet of the lobby, warm wood-paneled walls graced with modern art, were not what she had expected from a hospital. She approached the front desk, shyly asked for Murdock's room.  
  
"Room 301, down that hall, take the first right, you'll see the number on the door," the receptionist pointed as she spoke, smiling. "He seems to be getting a lot of visitors today. Guess he's feeling better?"  
  
"I hope so." Mina followed the woman's directions, stared at the closed door a long time before gathering her courage, opening it.  
  
Face lay dozing on a small plush sofa against the wall. Mina's eyes took in both the man laying in the hospital bed, and the woman beside it. She suddenly felt young, insecure, and jealous. The woman smiled, rose to greet her.  
  
"You must be Mina." The woman offered her hand. Mina took it, surprised by a firm, sensible handshake. The woman was tall and slim, attractive in a healthy way. Her nails were unpainted, her chestnut hair cut short. "I'm Amy. I help the guys out now and then."  
  
"Hi." Mina felt ridiculous relief. This woman was not Murdock's - girlfriend? Was she? Why did she care? Goddamn hormones. She stood there feeling stupid, slid her eyes to Murdock.  
  
He was asleep, chest rising and falling slowly, heart monitor blipping in the corner with a steady rhythm. She forgot Amy, walked closer to the bed, sat in the chair Amy had occupied. He looked thinner, paler than ever, purple shadows below his closed eyelids, left arm full of needle marks and IVs, right arm rigid in a green fiberglass cast Her heart ached. She took his free hand. Amy withdrew silently to the couch, sat next to a drowsy Face. Mina turned at the sound, smiled as Face waved sleepily. Swung her head back as Murdock murmured.  
  
His eyes opened a slit, managed to smile, fingers tightening on hers a bit.  
  
"Hey muchacha." Whispering through mind-muddling pain-killers.  
  
"Hey yourself." She couldn't stop grinning, seeing him awake, somehow knowing now he was going to be okay. She arched an eyebrow. "You look awful."  
  
"Gee, thanks chica. I'm feelin' better already. You got a wonderful bedside manner."  
  
"Sorry." She sat quietly as he closed his eyes, thinking he must be too tired for this.  
  
"How'd it go with your dad?" He spoke with his eyes still closed.  
  
She shrugged uncomfortably, knowing he'd feel it through their joined hands. "I don't know. Only talked to him once, over the phone. He was pretty pissed off, let me tell you. Jenna calmed him down and told him I'd be staying with her for a while."  
  
"That's good." He sighed, opened his eyes again. "It'll get better. Cross my heart and hope to - "  
  
"Shut up. That's not funny." She suddenly remembered something, reached into her sweater to pull the dog-tags out. She pulled them over her head, held them out. "Here. I brought these back to you."  
  
He shook his head slowly. "Uh-uh. Gave them to you, didn't I? Keep 'em. To remember me by."  
  
"I couldn't forget you, Murdock." She looked down at their hands, tears threatening to spill. Thought of her father and his indifference. Thought of her sister, uncomprehending in so many ways. She hadn't wanted Mina to fly out to California. Murdock released her hand, brought her chin up. Brushed away a tear with his thumb.  
  
"Hey. What's that for? Can't be that bad, can it?" She shook her head wordlessly. His eyes brightened mischievously. "I got an idea. Soon as I get out, we'll do something a little different. I'll spring you IN to the VA, show you my room. Got video games, pictures of the old flyin' days, ya GOTTA see this pic of the big angry guy before he had his beard, and you can meet Billy, and Ed, and - "  
  
"Billy? Ed? Who are they, other patients?"  
  
"Naw, naw. You'll see." He winked. "And then maybe the Faceman can scam me a chopper. And I'll teach you how to fly."  
  
Her eyes widened expectantly. "Really? Oh that would be - oh." She drooped. "I'm only out here for a week. You won't be ready to leave by then."  
  
"What, you can't come back and visit? We're buds, right? You're like family, muchacha. Gotta visit your family." He drew a deep breath, energy spent. "Hate to tell you, kid, but I've gotta get about a hundred winks. They pump ya full of drugs over here, say they're keeping the pain away but in my opinion they just wanna keep me quiet."  
  
"Really, I can't imagine why." She laughed softly, leaned over, kissed his cheek. He smiled. She held his hand as he slowly drifted back into sleep. Stared out the small window onto the manicured lawns. She daydreamed of flying.  
  
************  
  
Murdock was dreaming.  
  
- Stood on the edge of a tortured landscape, trees with twisted branches the color of bone, dark murky river a scar cutting through the blighted earth. A bloated sun shed tears of blood on the horizon -  
  
****  
  
Mina sat in the chair, ran her fingers slowly over Murdock's name, rank, serial number.  
  
****  
  
- There was a figure. Closer. Closer. It was Mina. So far away. Close enough to hear her thoughts. She held out her hand -  
  
****  
  
On the bed, Murdock stirred, moaned. Mina pressed his fingers gently, letting him know she was there.  
  
****  
  
- The landscape blurred, transformed, darkened. Empty blackness descended. He held her hand, tiny diffuse light without source illuminated their faces. They looked at eachother -  
  
****  
  
He was quiet. Mina pulled the chain back over her head.  
  
****  
  
- She put a finger to her lips. Smiled. She pulled them into the light. Wide expanse in crystal blue, airless atmosphere as they drifted. Laughter without sound. No words.  
  
They had never needed words.  
  
END   



End file.
